Fall
by EstelRaca
Summary: To become the Ultimate Darkness, he has to fall on his own. Though they failed in her world, the Man in Black gives her another chance to make the Linto warrior what he was always meant to be. Perhaps asking the cost would have been a good idea.
1. Prologue: What Dark Beast

**Disclaimer:** None of the Kamen Rider series are mine; they belong to Toei and their respective writers. I just love playing with them.

**Author's Note:** This fic started as a challenge from a friend to try to write a Decade story similar in style and tone to Grant Morrison's work—in particular, with a similar tone to Final Crisis, because Decade practically begs for it. I am not Grant Morrison, and have no illusions that I write as well as him, but that should give those of you familiar with him some idea of what I'm trying for. I do promise that I'll try to explain most of the allusions I use (at least the important ones). I've got quite a bit already done on this, and hope to post a chapter a week (usually on Fridays) if there's interest. I hope someone enjoys!

_Prologue: What Dark Beast_

He has to fall on his own.

_That_ is the purpose of the Gegeru, the universe whispers now. Too late, far too late.

The Gegeru should have prepared the victor for his purpose. Should have made him ready to channel the beautiful, dark energy that could birth their kind from the animals that they hunted. Should have found the strongest of their generation, the best warrior, and blessed him with the ability to bring a new generation into being. To reach the final stage of the gegeru, to stand against Daguva, should have meant a shedding of whatever pacifist poison flowed in his veins. Should have made him entirely one of them. The Linto are capable of it, she knows.

Animals capable of human acts, and the water is bloody around her, wonderfully bloody. How long has she floated here, to know that she is the last? How long will the water hold her, a relic of a dying race, the last true Grongi?

"Oh, so melodramatic."

Hands lift her from the water, water that tastes of blood and sweetness and that evaporates like no true water ever would as soon as she is carried from it.

"You lost on your world, Ra-Baruba-De." He grins, setting her on feet that are shaky and uncertain but definitely still her own. Sketching a Western-style bow, he touches his red, red lips—the only color on him, besides his white teeth—to her hand. "But as my old friends say, there are other worlds than this."

She doesn't know why he laughs.

She certainly doesn't know why it frightens her.

XXX

He is younger than the Kuuga that she knows. Younger in age, younger in bearing, younger in power and control.

He is lonelier than the Kuuga that she knows. His world is far removed from him, and there are severed bonds there that bleed his strength away. Who was it that they killed, to hurt him so deeply? Which of the humans who stood beside her Kuuga did he lose? Did her detective die, the Linto whose eyes shone with a Grongi's strength?

She doesn't know, and she doesn't, _definitely_ doesn't care. The Man in Black has given her a chance to redeem and reclaim her people, to bring to fruition the aborted genesis, and she will not squander it.

He has to fall on his own. Young as he is, lonely as he is, as in touch with the darkness inside him as he is… The boy has already fallen. Twice, three times, his Linto mind wrenched open and drenched in the power of her people.

All she has to do is make him fall of his own volition.

XXX

The Man in Black laughs, reporting to the others, because she's going to do it. She's got all the tools, all the knowledge, and all the drive needed to make the boy fall.

And there's nothing more fun than seeing two religions collide head-on.


	2. Part One: Hour Come 'Round

**Disclaimer:** None of the Kamen Rider series are mine; they belong to Toei and their respective writers. I just love playing with them.

**Author's Note/Warning:** There's some death and violence in the last third of this that's a little above what one would expect from most Rider battles. Nothing's described in gory detail, and I wouldn't say above a PG-13 warning's needed, but I thought I'd give those very sensitive to violence fair warning.

_Part One: Hour Come 'Round_

Tsukasa dances.

It's a dream. He knows that, vaguely, but it's not a true lucid dream. He can't control what's happening. He can't stop himself, though he wants to. He can't turn on the ones who are dictating events, though he wants to do that, too. All he can do is dance.

Dance in bare feet, and there is a creature beneath him. Something vaguely human, but its skin color is wrong, its face is wrong, and the feel of its skin against his is _wrong_. Leathery, sharp, scaly, snake teeth in his ankle, poison in his blood.

But he is fire. The lord of fire and the dance, and the creature is gone, destroyed, replaced by tiger skin, soft and supple. The epitome, the embodiment of power and beauty, and is there anything more alluring in all the worlds?

Fed to the flames. All of it, fed to the flames, dashed beneath his feet, and there is a trident in his hand, only blood clothing his body, the moon so _bright_ in his eyes, and he _doesn't want this_—

He wakes sweating, panting slightly, with a twinge in his calves that he'd usually associate with fighting. It's been four days since he had to use Decade, though.

"I don't even _like_ dancing." Burying his head under his pillow, he lets out a sound that's part growl and part sigh. It's not the first time he's had the dream, and he's bitterly certain it won't be the last. Whatever Kurenai Wataru and the others did to him, whatever their _using_ him had done to him, it's made sure that his sleep for the last two months has been sketchy at best.

Really, why can't his mind realize it's just too much damn work to have recurring nightmares?

It would be better if he could at least just go back to sleep. But he never can, not after _that_ dream. That dream always leaves his senses hyperaware, as though he had managed to use Yuusuke's Pegasus Form without transforming. If he keeps his eyes closed, he doesn't have to see everything, far too bright and far too well defined. That doesn't stop him from feeling the roughness of the bedding; from smelling the detergent far too clearly, smelling his _own _scent far too clearly, which is at least better than smelling Yuusuke's only-mostly-human scent. It doesn't stop him from hearing every creak and movement in the photo studio—the settling of the building as it blends into this new world, the tap of bird feet on the roof above him, the soft hum of Eijiro as he works on their breakfast, the restless sounds of Natsumi trying to earn a bit more sleep next door, the lightest of whimpers from Yuusuke…

Whimpers from Yuusuke, and he lifts his head, opens his eyes to get an overly clear image of the other Rider.

Yuusuke's nightmares aren't loud, not anymore. He only had to wake them twice before something in the man's too-altruistic mind decided he needed to suffer more quietly. Now, instead of thrashing and screaming, fighting against whatever monsters hold him, he curls into himself. Protects his most vulnerable spots, protects the Amadam, and cries in the softest whimpers until either the nightmare ends or someone wakes him.

"Yuusuke." His voice sounds too loud in his ears, though the sensitivity his own nightmares bring is already fading. "Yuusuke."

The other man doesn't react in any way, doesn't shift or break the even pacing of his cries. It's tempting to just lay his head back down, let the other Rider deal with his own issues in his own way, but he's seen the way Yuusuke's nightmare ends. He's watched before as Yuusuke finally stopped whimpering, stopped breathing entirely, went completely limp for a half minute that seemed like eternity.

On the other hand, he doesn't want to touch him. The man's skin runs just barely hotter than a normal human's, but he made the mistake of touching him before the sensitivity from the nightmare faded entirely once before. Associating Yuusuke and fire isn't something he's keen on doing right now.

The obvious solution is to throw something at him, and the perfect object is sitting right under his head.

Yuusuke springs awake with a yelp, trying to jump into a defensive posture and mainly just succeeding in looking like an idiot and tangling himself in his bedding. A disgruntled frown slowly forms on his face as his eyes dart between the pillow on his bed and the lack of one on Tsukasa's.

Reaching out lazily with his left hand, Tsukasa points at the offending object. "If you could just give that back…"

"Tsukasa—" Yuusuke bites back whatever he was going to say. He also tries to hide the grin that's replacing the frown, but subterfuge has never been Yuusuke's strong point, so Tsukasa's more than ready when the other man jumps at him, pillow in hand.

It's a rowdy fight, a noisy fight, completely unbecoming of Riders in their twenties. He tries to tell Yuusuke that, but the other man seems more intent on filling his mouth with feathers than listening to whatever he's trying to say, so he resorts to cruder methods. After all, it's obvious who the better fighter is, so it was silly of Yuusuke to start this in the first place.

Which means it's completely unfair that Natsumi hits _him_ with the laughing pressure point and offers Yuusuke a hand up.

"He…" Trying to choke down the laughter just makes him feel like he's going to throw up, which would be even more embarrassing, so he grudgingly lets it run its course. "He started it."

"I doubt that." Natsumi holds out a hand to help him up, too, but he doesn't take it, instead rising gracefully to his own feet.

He doesn't deign to acknowledge the eye-roll from Natsumi that follows, or the grin it gets from Yuusuke. The man gets far too much pleasure out of Tsukasa's pride being ruffled.

"Come on, both of you." Natsumi grabs each of them with one arm, leading them determinedly toward the door. "Breakfast, and then we've got a whole new world to explore."

It's a comfortable, familiar routine, one that he's very fond of. Maybe _too_ fond of, too attached to these Riders, but he's done pondering that conundrum. They brought him back to life. This is his world, and even if it's a world with only four and a half inhabitants, he is lord of it. He belongs here, is happy here, is _safe_ here, and so are the others.

Is it any wonder that he doesn't give the dream any more thought?

XXX

Yuusuke has to admit that this new world is fairly kind to Tsukasa, clothing him in dark jeans, a pink dress shirt, a black vest and a black fedora. Tsukasa spends a few moments playing with the hat, spinning it between his fingers and posing dramatically as he puts it back on.

"No. Definitely not." Natsumi studies him intently before shaking her head. "What are you supposed to be? A noir reject?"

Tsukasa pouts, digging in his pockets and pulling out a business card. "I look fine. And apparently I _am_ supposed to be a detective here. Don't think I'd be noir, though. Too much work, all that macho posing and angst-filled monologueing."

"I'm sure being any kind of private investigator is too much work for you." Natsumi smiles as she speaks, reaching up to readjust the fedora. "What do you think, Yuusuke?"

He straightens when he realizes she was talking to him, giving Tsukasa a hasty once-over before shrugging. "I think he looks fine."

"That's not…" Natsumi takes his arm, her other hand resting against his forehead. "No fever. Are you all right? You've been quiet all morning."

"I'm fine." Smiling, he raises his hand in a thumb's up. "Definitely fine."

As fine as he's been for the last two months, at least. The Rider War left its mark on him, just like it did everyone else, but he's getting through it. The nightmares were even getting better for a while, though the last two weeks have been bad again. Still, there's no need to let the vividness of today's get to him. Besides, the Rider War is the one topic none of them talk about, having somehow reached a tacit understanding that it's a point in their lives best forgotten. He's not going to break that truce because he can't control his own dreams.

He can read the other's expressions so easily now. Natsumi doesn't believe him, but she's willing to go along with him anyway, watching for any way she can help. Tsukasa doesn't believe him, but believes that he can take care of himself, and thus won't bother trying to push him to do anything he doesn't want to do.

He really is fine, though, just fine, so he takes the lead as they explore their new world. The city they're in isn't Tokyo, though it's large and well-populated. Well-populated with a rather… unique set of individuals, and they spend just as much time watching the people as they do wandering into stores, parks and anywhere else that's open to the public. By the time they stop for lunch he's totally forgotten the dream, though Kuuga remains uncomfortably bright and alert within him, a light pulse of energy through all of his nerves that makes him restless whenever they stop moving.

"I still think it would be great if the world had dressed you in the Santa suit." Natsumi swallows another bite of the sushi they bought for lunch. "A bright pink Santa suit."

"I'd look just fine." Tsukasa sprawls across the bench on his side of the picnic table, fedora placed over his eyes to block out the sun.

"No. No one looks good in one of those. That's not the point of them." Stealing another sushi piece that Tsukasa evidently doesn't want, since he's not eating it, Yuusuke considers the other man. "Though we'd have to get you some padding. And a beard if the outfit doesn't come with one. A bright pink beard, maybe?"

Tsukasa gives another long-suffering sigh, but the thought makes Natsumi laugh.

It's a beautiful day. Perfect weather, the sky bright blue, just a few clouds present to occasionally skid across the sun and keep things from getting too bright and hot. He really should have expected something to go wrong.

The screams are maybe a block away when they first hear them, and rapidly getting closer. He's on his feet and running toward them before he's consciously decided to move, Natsumi at his side. Kivala joins them a few seconds later, fluttering around Natsumi's head and chattering about how exciting everything is.

He doesn't look back to make sure Tsukasa's following them. He doesn't have to. Wherever they go, Tsukasa's sure to follow, though maybe not quickly or with good grace.

There are four of the kaijin, and they're destroying everything in their path. He can see at least a dozen bodies in the street behind them, who knows how many others trapped beneath the rubble they've left in their wake. He and Natsumi skid to a halt at about the same time, just out of the monster's likely range of attack. She snatches Kivala out of the air; he calls Kuuga out from beneath his skin.

Their transformations wash over them at the same time, which feels absurdly, ecstatically _right_, in a way he couldn't explain if he tried. He gives Natsumi another thumb's up, because smiling doesn't show through the Kuuga armor, but she doesn't notice. She's too busy looking behind them, where Tsukasa should be but isn't, and how did it feel so right before to just have the two of them?

The images erupt in his mind, ripping his focus away. A dozen battles, flashing through every form he has. His opponents taunting him, using the Grongi speech that he can almost, almost understand, though he doesn't want to. Officers dying, falling one after another, and then his own blood layered on top of theirs. A battle hammer, a sword, a scythe, teeth, claws, acid, how many different ways could they find to make him bleed?

The cry of an owl hunting, the soft brush of flower petals against his cheek, and the barrage of unfamiliar memories slows.

"Yuusuke!" Natsumi's hand is pressed hard to his cheek, pressure and heat that he can feel even through the Kuuga armor. "Yuusuke, get up. Please."

One of the kaijin swings at her from behind with a sword that looks ridiculous, too heavy to wield properly and shaped so that it looks like half of it is missing. Natsumi doesn't say anything as she spins to meet his attack, slipping under it to strike against first his midsection and then his back. The kaijin feels gingerly at the spot before turning to her again, chuckling quietly under its breath.

Turning its back to him, and that's a mistake. Whatever's wrong with Kuuga—whatever's wrong with _him_—it won't stop him from defending his friends and anyone else that needs his help.

The kaijin retreats once it realizes it's outnumbered, falling back to where the other three are. They're a strange looking bunch, more mismatched than the usual batches of kaijin they face. The one they had been sparring with has its misshapen sword as well as a left arm that ends in a gun. Another looks like some sort of mutant dinosaur, all gnashing teeth and no real body. Another has a head that looks like some kind of cockroach, legs and all, while the last one has a wrecking ball at the end of its left arm.

A wrecking ball that it uses to crush the head of a child lying at its feet before turning to face them, and Kuuga flares white-hot around him, power pulsing in a torrent along all his nerves.

His own scream is the only thing he hears as he charges the creatures.

XXX

Tsukasa's missing and there's something wrong with Yuusuke.

Blind terror tries to crawl its way up her throat, a certainty that everything's going to fall apart, but she won't let it. She's been in this situation before. Tsukasa will come back, and whatever's wrong with Yuusuke, they'll figure it out and fix it. All she has to do is keep the two of them alive long enough to reach that stage.

Which actually isn't that hard to do. She's been training with Tsukasa and Yuusuke as often as she can cajole them into it, so she's doing just fine at taking care of herself, and Yuusuke actually seems to be doing quite well. Better than usual, even, and they've got the one with the wrecking ball arm down within a minute, Yuusuke immediately falling into the crouch that means he's preparing his final attack.

The kaijin screams when he sees that, a high-pitched, almost pathetic sound of terror. Something jumps from his arm to clatter on the rubble at his feet, and it's no longer a monster Yuusuke's facing down. "Please please please—"

She almost doesn't get there in time. If she'd been any slower, or if Yuusuke was any faster…

"Yuusuke!" He twists in her arms, growling, snarling, lunging at the human not ten feet away from them. "Yuusuke, he's human! There was something in his arm, but I think he's human! _Yuusuke!_"

The shout seems to get through to him, finally, and he settles down. He's shaking, badly, and the Kuuga armor feels too hot, especially since she can feel it through Kivala's armor. His right hand moves down to his belt, pressing against it, and she can feel her heart skip a beat as she notices thin black lines threading through the red of the stone. Threading through the red of Kuuga's armor, when she looks closely, tiny black strands that criss-cross and tangle, and this is bad. Kuuga's an integral part of Yuusuke, tied into his anatomy in ways she doesn't understand. If there's something wrong with it… if it's sick, or broken in some way…

He lunges out of her arms before she can tighten her hold again, and she looks over to see the kaijin with the sword dropping the body of a mostly disemboweled woman to the ground. Terror and anger twisting her own stomach, she follows Kuuga back into the fray.

There's something wrong with the way the kaijin are fighting. They're too defensive, the way they dodge and parry and simply observe far too great a contrast to the wanton destruction that they were wreaking before. They're also far too focused on Yuusuke—not on hurting him, but on having his attention. Every time they approach one of their unconscious victims, every time they get close to injuring her, their eyes always track to Yuusuke, checking to make sure he's watching.

They're doing this to him. Whatever's wrong with him, whatever problem he's having with Kuuga, they know about it and are exploiting it.

Which means if she can get one of them to talk, she maybe stands a chance of fighting back.

She takes down the kaijin with the cockroach head. He's fast, incredibly fast, but he doesn't have the attack prowess of the other two, and Yuusuke's less focused on him. It takes only a few minutes of close, careful combat to make him eject the flash-drive-like object that turns him into the monster—a flash drive she promptly destroys.

Her sword hovers millimeters from his human neck, daring him to try to move. "What are you doing to Yuusuke?"

The man shakes his head, eyes huge. "I can't—"

The blade just nicks his skin, sending a carefully controlled trickle of blood down his neck.

"We're just doing what we were told. By the boss and the crazy chick. Please, I—" Whatever else he was going to say is lost in a desperate, terror-filled scream.

She understands why a moment later. Ice washes over her legs, crawls up every vein to lodge in her heart. Her breath catches in her throat. Tears prick at her eyes, though there's nothing to cry for.

But there _is_ something to cry for. Definitely something to cry for, because everything's falling apart again. Tsukasa's gone, when the monsters attack, and that probably means he's siding with them again. Siding with the enemy, helping to hurt Yuusuke, break Yuusuke, and what's she supposed to do about it? How's she supposed to save them both? She's just a girl, and they're going to take everything. Take even her grandfather from her, make him someone bad, someone evil, and she doesn't want this. She can't do this, not again. Not for a third time, especially because it doesn't even matter. No matter what she does, she's going to lose, someone's going to be hurt, someone's going to die, and she'll be left alone again.

Alone. Every orphan's worst nightmare.

"Oh, my dear, you make this almost too easy." Hands close around her arms, hold her up as the inky blackness that's surrounding her saps away her strength. "Now, Ra-Baruba-De, I believe it's time you made your move."


	3. Part Two: Slouches Towards Bethlehem

**Disclaimer:** Decade doesn't belong to me, I just like trying to make sense of the mythology.

_Part Two: Slouches Toward Bethlehem_

He doesn't know where he is anymore.

That's a problem, he knows. Something he should fix when he gets a chance. But there are people dying, people being hurt right in front of him, so he has to keep fighting. Once he's run out of monsters, he can sit down and try to make Kuuga shut up. Try to make it stop showing him things he doesn't need to see, especially in the middle of a fight.

So many other fights, and he knows most of them aren't his but they all belong to Kuuga and he is Kuuga so they must be his. But it isn't Yashiro at his side in some of them, it's a man, just as good with a gun as she is; and the woman in some of them looks like Yashiro but has only arrows as weapons, or is the man and uses a sword.

One of the kaijin rams his sword through the body of a businessman, slicing bone as though it were wheat, and he screams as he attacks again. He has to stay focused. He has to pay attention to what's happening here, now, whenever now is, because if he doesn't people are dying. And it's his job to protect people, to save people, to maintain people.

To keep everything safe, secure, so that people can flourish, and why does he smell lotus flowers, feel the touch of their petals against his face?

The piece of steel practically jumps into his hand, Kuuga's power flowing over it, transforming it into his strongest staff. He spins it, and it flows perfectly between his hands but somehow feels wrong. A sword would be better; a mace even better, or perhaps a chakra. The thoughts don't make sense, but they somehow quiet the frenzied gibbering of Kuuga in the back of his mind, and for that he is grateful.

The two kaijin step back, hesitant, and he leaps toward them. Brings the staff crashing down, and he has to remind himself to pull the blow at the last minute. Natsumi said these were humans, not true kaijin, so he can't just make them explode.

Even if it would give him the time to figure out what's wrong with him, maybe get a little piece of his sanity back.

"Yuusuke."

The voice bears an accent, one he knows instinctively, though he's never heard Grongi speak Japanese before.

"Kuuga." Her voice caresses the word, hits each syllable exactly as it was meant to be hit, and he turns toward the woman as though compelled. "I've been waiting to meet you face to face, Kuuga. Waiting very, very patiently."

She has Tsukasa. Holds him up effortlessly by the back of his shirt, and though there's no obvious injuries on him he's not moving at all.

"Let him go." His voice is rough, raw, as though he's been screaming a lot, which maybe he has.

"I can't do that." There seems to be honest regret in her voice. "This isn't the way this is supposed to go, you know. You hurting so badly, so confused… winning the gegeru is supposed to be glorious, and yet the two of you…"

"I have an appointment at two thirty, Ra-Baruba-De." The kaijin steps into view at a sixty degree angle from the woman, and he has Natsumi held tightly by both arms. Her armor is gone, and tears stream down her face from eyes that aren't focused on anything. "If we could wrap this up…?"

He should go after one of them. Natsumi or Tsukasa, though? Who does he save first?

_How_ does he save them, with so many things flashing through his head that don't make any sense? Fighting, still, a dark armor. Fire. Flowers. Elephants. A man in white. Dancing in the stars, only the stars die. Sound, primal and wonderful, the whisper of a conch shell. A smile, a touch, and it is Yashiro's face, it is someone else's, it is a primal thing within him and yet not of him. Or is it someone else, a woman of fire, of swords, of homes, and there's too much in his head, too many things, and he's going to drown in them.

Tsukasa. Focus on Tsukasa, because at least Natsumi's still conscious, still maybe able to defend herself, though the look on her face says otherwise. Get Tsukasa away from the woman, and then go for Natsumi.

Except there are people in front of the woman, the human forms of the kaijin he's been fighting as well as four new kaijin. They grin at each other, grin at him, because he won't do this. He won't kill them, won't let his anger, his hatred of what they were doing, his fear for Tsukasa control him.

Even if there's barely any him left to control, and what weapon is he holding in his hand? How does he use it?

"Come, Kuuga." The woman's free hand trails across Tsukasa's chest, down his shirt, ripping it open with ease. Her fingers shift, become vines and thorns which she gently presses to Tsukasa's skin. It doesn't surprise him, though. He's known she's a Grongi for weeks now, at least. They've seen each other in dreams, and Kuuga knows her instinctively.

Warns him instinctively, or threatens him, or drives him, he can't tell anymore.

"Make your choice, Kuuga." The thorns dig into Tsukasa's skin, the vines slide downward, and it only takes a few seconds before Tsukasa starts coughing, gasping, and there's blood speckling his lips.

It would be so easy to do it. Kill the kaijin, whether they're human or not, grab Tsukasa, kill the last of the Grongi, and they deserve it, they deserve it _so much_, for hurting people, for hurting Tsukasa…

But he hears Yashiro's voice, stern and commanding, lecturing him after his second battle. _Don't fight out of hate, Yuusuke. It's easy, too easy, and it'll make you like them. Protect people; protect people's smiles._

He rises from his crouch, takes a step forward, and feels blind terror claw its way through his already-fragile mind.

She'll kill him. They'll kill them both, Natsumi and Tsukasa, and leave him alone here. Leave him alone, with no one in any world to turn to and things happening to him that he doesn't understand.

There really isn't any choice after that.

He'll kill them. They're murderers anyway, monsters that deserve whatever they get, and he needs to save Tsukasa. Gathering up as much of Kuuga's energy as he can, reaching for all it will give him, he strikes.

It's almost too easy, the way bones break under Kuuga's boot, kaijin or human. The others scatter as quickly as they can, which is too slow, far too slow, he'll be able to hunt them down in seconds, once he has Tsukasa. Even the kaijin holding Natsumi shoves her away and turns to run. Run from him, because he's the most dangerous thing here, the master of the gegeru, the lord of the grongi.

Though something about that isn't right, doesn't ring true. Tsukasa is the destroyer, the one with the fire, but those images finally, blessedly fade away, lost in the dark, magnificent rush of power from Kuuga.

Ripping the Grongi's hand from Tsukasa's chest is effortless, the tendrils dripping blood as he holds her in an iron grip. He can kill her. He can rip her apart, send his power pouring through her, destroy her on a whim, and she deserves it. They all deserved it, every one he killed, because he is the proper arbiter of life and death. Death for the old; life for the new.

She rolls with his blow, managing to torque around the arm he continues to hold without breaking it. Blood drips in a steady stream from both her lip and her nose, and she lowers her eyes. "My life is yours, my lord."

He understands then, too late to stop it. Too late to close the floodgates that he willingly threw open, and Kuuga doesn't care that he was hurt, that he was scared, that he was confused, that he doesn't want this.

He chose, willingly.

Riding the waves of dark power as they claim him, shape him, change him, he screams until his throat is raw and blood fills his mouth.

It's the best thing he's ever tasted.


	4. Part Three: Born

**Disclaimer:** Decade belongs to the writers and to Toei. I'm just totally in love with the characters.

**Author's Note:** Two chapters this week, because the first one's rather short. Hope someone enjoys!

_Part Three: Born_

She keeps shaking even after he lets her go, and she hates herself for that. There are too many important things she needs to do for her to waste time shuddering in terror, her mind running over every horrible possibility it can find.

There're enough terrible things happening right in front of her, anyway. No need for imagination.

Kivala's gone, and she hopes the little bat found somewhere safe to recover from whatever the kaijin had been doing to them, but she can't take the time right now to go find her. Tsukasa's bleeding and Yuusuke's screaming.

Yuusuke's _changing_, the Kuuga armor darkening to a deep, velvety black. She's seen him use his black armor before—or seen others use it for him, force it on him—but there's something different about it this time. Something more vivid, more alive, more frightening.

She's halfway there when Yuusuke finally stops screaming and falls to his knees, the Kuuga armor dissolving back into his skin. He still has his right hand latched onto the Grongi's arm, but the woman doesn't move to strike him. Just seems content to watch him, and her expression is hungry, hopeful, a dozen other emotions that only serve to quicken Natsumi's heartrate.

"Yuusuke!" Her feet skid on blood, among other things, and she tries hard not to think about what those other things are. Once she's sure he's safe they can deal with the fact that Yuusuke just slaughtered people… and the fact that she doesn't care, her entire being focused on the two Riders in front of her. "Yuusuke, look at me."

Raising his head slowly, he blinks at her a few times before smiling. It's Yuusuke's smile but not Yuusuke's eyes, and it takes all of her control not to retreat from that look. No iris, no pupil, no white, just black, dark pits staring at her.

"Natsumi." He stands, and if she wasn't looking at his eyes she wouldn't know anything was wrong. He still moves like Yuusuke, deliberate and sure but with a fighter's grace. And that smile, Yuusuke's smile, so pleased and open and honest… she wants to believe it's still him as he releases his hold on the Grongi and reaches for her. Wants to run into his arms, and believe everything's going to be all right, but there's nothing of her Yuusuke in the hungry depths of those eyes.

Dodging around Yuusuke's hand, she grabs an iron bar from the ground. It's heavy, without Kivala's armor and the strength that comes with it, but she should still be able to wield it decently for a few minutes. Pointing the tip at the Grongi's head, she stands her ground. "Let him go."

"I wouldn't dream of trying to influence him now, Linto." The Grongi's eyes trace Yuusuke again, her lips parting in a small, pleased smile. "Not now that he is what he was meant to be."

Even though she's watching for it, she barely sees him move. Her muscles still react like they've been trained to, swinging her makeshift weapon as hard as she can at his head, and it's as much that as his hand closing on her wrist that makes her drop it. She doesn't want to hurt Yuusuke. Not that badly, no matter how likely he is to heal.

"It's me, Natsumi." His skin is hot against hers, his whole body burning, and she can feel the heat through his clothing as he presses close to her. Left hand rising to push hair from her face, he keeps his right hand latched in a vice grip on her left wrist. She doesn't want to look into his eyes but can't look away. "It's all me. Just better. And I want you."

The smell of flowers though it should be blood, the gentle lap of water though there is no water near here, a sky of perfect, wonderful blue, and he's going to kiss her.

Fire coursing against her, darkness rushing from him to her, and he's trying to change her. He's trying to infect her with the thing that stares from his eyes, but that one isn't meant for him. The one who rides the tiger, the one who _is_ the tiger, the one who wields sword and staff and teeth with equal equanimity, she belongs to the fire, and the fire isn't meant for him. This thing before her, this amalgam, is _wrong_.

Her knee catches him hard in the crotch, surprises him, as does the fist to the gut. Targeted, carefully targeted, and her fingers go numb as they crash against the amadam but it's worth it. Worth it to get him off her, the thing that was Yuusuke flinging her away with inhuman strength in an instinctive attempt to protect the Grongi artifact.

Stumbling back to her feet, she turns to face him again just in time to watch Tsukasa's fist connect with Yuusuke's jaw.

XXX

He burns.

His chest most of all, but that's hardly the only part. Fire plays in his blood, flows through all his veins, and he doesn't like that. Doesn't like it at all, just like he doesn't like Yuusuke threatening Natsumi. He can't do anything about the fire, but he can do something about Yuusuke.

The other Rider stumbles back from the blow, his lip splitting open, spilling a single drop of crimson blood, and sealing closed again within moments. It's impressive. It's also not something Yuusuke should be able to do, but it's obviously not just Yuusuke in his body right now.

Yuusuke stays frozen for a handful of seconds, studying the ground, arms wrapped around himself. Protecting himself, almost, like in his nightmares. "Don't do things like that, Tsukasa. Natsumi. Please."

Tsukasa. He shouldn't be surprised at the name. It's one of the few things he's always known. When he could remember nothing else, he remembered his own name. So why does it feel so foreign now?

Yuusuke straightens abruptly, grins, stretching his hands up above his head before letting them fall to his side. "Don't worry, Tsukasa. I'm not really mad. And I wouldn't leave you alone. I want you, too."

"I'm not for sale." His tongue is sluggish in his mouth, but talking makes him feel better. Soothes the feel of fire in his blood, pushes away things that he knows aren't true—the tiger that stands at his side is Natsumi, crouched and ready but still very human; there are no clouds in the sky, and there is no drum beating in time to his heart. "Not for rent, either. Neither is Natsumi. Neither is Yuusuke for that matter. So get out."

"This is me, Tsukasa." Yuusuke takes a step toward them, expression grave, and if not for those hungry, empty eyes this thing would look just like him. "No one else. Just me and Kuuga, doing what we were meant to do."

"And what are you meant to do?" As long as Yuusuke's talking, he's not attacking them.

"Protect." The answer is automatic, and Yuusuke frowns, studying the ground at his feet. "No. Not protect. Not preserve. Well… maybe." He grins. "Preserve my people. A whole race waiting to be born, Tsukasa. Waiting on me. Why'd I fight it so hard before?"

"Because wherever Grongi go, people die." Natsumi has her hand on his shoulder, and tear streaks mar the dust on her cheeks, but her voice is firm as she stares at Yuusuke. "And Yuusuke never wanted anyone to suffer."

"Which is silly." The grin fades from his face, those black eyes again taking precedence. "Linto have to die. Thin the herd so the strongest can live. Can become us. Besides, it's fun. Death… destruction… it's the ultimate game. The best game. You'll understand soon enough."

He goes for DecaDriver a split second before Yuusuke leaps for them. Not early enough, not with the way Yuusuke moves now, not with how weak he feels. Yuusuke's open hand connects with DecaDriver, the force of the casual blow enough to make his hand go numb. He can use the momentum of the attack, though, knock Yuusuke off balance, try to scramble after DecaDriver.

Except Yuusuke refuses to let him go, bringing them both down to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs. The man's arms lock around him, a too-tight hug, and he can't look away from those black, empty eyes.

He doesn't notice the influx of power at first. It finds too much to resonate with in him, crawling into the deepest recesses of his psyche, reminding him that he is the victor. He knows how to kill, methodically, viciously, using every advantage he has.

He could be a good Grongi.

Except the darkness wants fire where he turns to ice. Wants joy and celebration and reveling in destruction, where he goes cold as the arctic. Killing to survive he can do, has done, hopes he'll never have to do again; enjoying it is another matter entirely.

There is fire to answer its call, though. Fire still dancing through all his arteries, rushing through him with every beat of his heart, and it hates this thing that wears Yuusuke's face. Hates the usurper, hates the way everything is being _twisted_, turned 'round, and he will not be tamed in this manner. He will not be subjugated to this… _thing_.

It's Natsumi, in Kivala's armor, who puts the sword through Yuusuke's back.

Tsukasa's fairly certain it's him that sets the man on fire, though he doesn't know how. He doesn't waste time trying to figure it out, either, instead getting away as quickly as he can, grabbing DecaDriver as he clambers to his feet.

Yuusuke doesn't burn. He screams, swiping at the fire, snarling in bestial rage, and the black of Kuuga's armor flickers around him before fading with the flames. The Grongi woman helps him with the sword, movements quick and practiced.

Tsukasa uses the spare seconds of Yuusuke healing completely from what should be near-fatal injuries to get Decade on, falling in at Natsumi's side.

"I…" Yuusuke takes a step toward them, right arm held against his chest still where the sword had gone through. His words are harsh, his expression pure fury. "You…"

Tsukasa watches quietly, finger on the trigger of Decade's gun. Natsumi crouches beside him, ready for whatever attack comes next.

"I…" Eyes closed, Yuusuke takes a slow, deliberate step back. "Please. I need you."

"No. You can't have us." His tone is softer than he really intended it to be, but this might actually be Yuusuke they're talking to. He doesn't let his finger relax on the trigger, though it wants to, seeing Yuusuke there, looking perfectly normal. "We'd like our Kuuga back."

"You can't understand." Yuusuke shakes his head and smiles, eyes opening. His tone mixes sorrow, disappointment and Yuusuke's headstrong determination so well it hurts. "That's all right. I can come back for you. Maybe you'll understand then, after I've done the rest."

The bridge between worlds that Yuusuke creates is small, barely large enough for him and the Grongi. He gives a hasty thumbs up and a bright smile as he pulls her through, shutting it quickly behind him. Natsumi's fingers close on thin air a second after the bridge fades.

Which might be for the best, as the fire that had been roaring through Tsukasa's veins finally fades, taking consciousness with it.


	5. Part Four: The Creeping Cat

**Disclaimer:** Decade and the Kamen Rider franchise does not belong to me.

**Author's Note:** Many many apologies for how long this took to get up! Vet school's been hell, so I've got a really big back-log of things to post. Hope you guys enjoy the next few parts!

_Part Four: The Creeping Cat_

He comes in through Tsukasa's bedroom window. There's no need to—the front door's probably unlocked, Natsumi forced a key on him for those few times when it's not, and he could pick the lock in about thirty seconds if he wanted to. He's done it often enough before. It's more fun and more challenging to get in through the window without breaking anything or attracting undue attention, though.

Plus he gets to see if Tsukasa or Yuusuke left anything interesting lying about.

Which, as usual, they didn't. He sighs in disappointment but not surprise. It only took him a few weeks to figure out that Yuusuke's entire earthly possessions seem confined to one small travel pack. That wouldn't even be so bad if those possessions didn't consist solely of clothes and a steadily growing collection of Tsukasa's lousy photos and Natsumi's decent ones.

As for Tsukasa… Tsukasa quickly learned to keep anything of actual value hidden away. Kaitou doesn't mind that, though. It makes prowling around the photo studio that much more interesting, knowing he could stumble on some treasure that belongs to the insufferable man.

There's no one upstairs and no sounds from downstairs, so he doubts anyone's home. That's all right. He can look around, raid the fridge, watch whatever passes for entertainment on TV in this world… maybe stick around after that if he doesn't think of anything better to do in the next hour or so.

Maybe make dinner for the crew. It's pretty much guaranteed to annoy Tsukasa, especially because Natsumi and Yuusuke would undoubtedly like it. Maybe even find a way to work sea cucumber into it… preferably in a dish he doesn't want to eat himself…

The old man sits at the kitchen table, perfectly still. A photograph rests in front of him, and tears wend their quiet way down his face.

His first instinct is to turn and run back up the stairs, out the window, into another world. Go anywhere but here, because somehow this place has become the only one in all the worlds that can hurt him. He's not that weak, though. Not anymore, at least.

Besides, even when he tries to leave he always seems to find his way back to these people.

"Master."

The old man startles, looks around, and smiles a hazy tear-streaked smile. "Daiki-kun."

Walking over so he can see what the old man's looking at, he studies the photo. It's a group shot, Tsukasa in the middle, Yuusuke on his left, Natsumi on his right. Natsumi and Yuusuke are grinning, each with an arm around Tsukasa; Tsukasa isn't grinning, because that's not his style, but he still looks pleased with the situation.

"So short." Eijiro's fingers brush over the image, stroking each of the people, fingers lingering longest on Natsumi. "I thought I'd at least have them for longer."

"What happened?" The words come out quietly, and though he can hear them perfectly fine they're removed from him. Unreal. Hiding behind the numbness that's hiding pain he's definitely not ready or willing to face, not if this is what he fears.

"Yuusuke lost." Gnarled fingers brush over the grinning face. "If it was anyone else he was up against… if he hadn't had… but Ryubee's too clever by far…"

"Yuusuke died." He knew it would happen, sooner or later. Yuusuke somehow still believed in being a hero, despite everything that had happened to him. It's far too easy to imagine him running in somewhere, pushing his luck, not knowing when to quit… or, easier, to imagine him taking a shot for someone else. Pushing Natsumi out of the way.

Pushing Tsukasa out of the way, like he's done a dozen times before, and Kaitou feels his fists clenching tight but can't do anything to stop it.

"Yuusuke didn't… die. Not really." The tears flow faster down the old man's leathery face. "Or… he did, but not like you're thinking. He gave into it. He took on the Grongi's final mantle. He became the ultimate darkness."

"You're not making any sense, old man." He resists the urge to slap the old man, scream at him, whatever's necessary to get him to say things in a straightforward manner. It's frightening how strong the impulse is. Violence has never been his mainstay, though. "Just… tell me who's alive. And if you mean Yuusuke's possessed, then just say that. It's happened often enough before. We can fix it."

Smiling slightly, expression somewhere between sadness and pride, the old man stands. Kaitou watches uncertainly as Eijiro reaches toward his face. The old man's hand is rough with calluses but ridiculously gentle as it pats along his cheek. "This isn't like any other time. Will you still come around, Daiki-kun, even if they're gone? I think this place will be very lonely without—"

"Look." Stepping away from the old man, he fingers Diend's trigger, finding calm in the familiar feel of the gun. "We'll take this one step at a time. Is Yuusuke alive?"

The old man smiles his usual vacant smile. "Yes. Technically."

"And Tsukasa and Natsumi are still alive."

"Yes."

A tight knot inside loosens, sending a surge of relief through him. He's not sure he likes that, but he'll deal with that problem later.

Eijiro's smile fades. "But they won't be for long."

"So tell me who has them! Tell me what to do! Don't just—" He stops abruptly, taking a deep breath, shoving a hand through his hair. Tell him who and what has them for what reason? Is he really thinking about playing hero? Maybe he should leave, now, before he knows any more. After all, if they took down Tsukasa and Yuusuke and Natsumi…

But Tsukasa's one of his treasures. Natsumi, too. Yuusuke, even, on those days when he can convince himself the man's for real.

"This isn't something you can fend off with Diend, Daiki-kun." The man sits down at the table again, fingers moving to trace the photo once more. "They're caught up in a bigger story than us, now. Something old. Something strong. Even if they win, they won't be ours anymore."

"She's your granddaughter." He throws the accusation at the back of the man's head. "If something's happening to her, you owe it to her to help."

"I can't. The only way for me to get involved is to do… that, and I promised I wouldn't anymore. No more science. No more magic. No more capes and crowds and hurting her. Especially because it's what _they_ want." He spits the word, a sudden flash of anger, as his finger circles Natsumi's face. "Better to not be involved then to fight her."

"Eijiro-san." He waits until the old man meets his eyes. "Please. Just… try to make sense. Where are the others? What's going on? And who tried to get you involved?"

"They told me. Ryubee-san, trying to get me to work for him. And the Man in Black, because it's fun to torture old men with their impotency." The last sentence is strangely devoid of emotion, a statement of fact. "As for where they are, Natsumi and Tsukasa are at the hospital. She called about an hour ago to say they were all right. Yuusuke's gone. Working on ending the worlds, I assume."

Yuusuke, ending the worlds. Definitely possessed again, then.

"Well, whatever someone told you, old man, Yuusuke's not going to end the world. I'm sure of that." His hand finally releases Diend, the knowledge that everyone's at least still alive and relatively safe enough to make him feel more comfortable here. Not safe—not knowing that at least two of the enemy were here, in Natsumi's house, tormenting her grandfather. But comfortable, ready to improvise and make the best of a situation. "The guy doesn't have it in him to destroy the world."

The old man just smiles that sad smile, turning back to his photograph and his tears. It's somehow more chilling than all the argument in the world could be.

Deliberately turning his back on the old man, he goes into the kitchen and rifles through the fridge. There are a few leftovers from what was probably their breakfast, as well as four bottles of ramune. He takes everything, finding room in his bag with practiced ease. He slings it back on his back as he heads toward the unlocked front door.

"Daiki-kun? Are you going to the hospital?"

He hadn't really thought about it, but that's probably where his feet intended to carry him. After all, Natsumi and Tsukasa are likely to give him a straight answer about what the hell's been going on. And he doesn't have to get involved, but knowing what's happening on a world-altering scale is an important survival tactic.

"Wait, wait…" The old man runs to a picture album, rifling through it rapidly. "Here. This one. Bring her this one."

The picture is from not long after the Rider War, during the week or so that he traveled exclusively with the photo studio. It's in front of a fountain, on a world that was rather boring except for its mineral deposits. Crystals not found anywhere else in the multiverse made for a good haul, and it was easier than normal because there weren't any kaijin to speak of in that world. Definitely one of his better memories, even if the others _had_ made him pose for their ridiculous picture.

Natsumi stands to his right, arm wrapped around his; Yuusuke is on his left, one arm wrapped around him and the other holding a disgruntled-looking Tsukasa in place. Maybe it hadn't been such a bad picture after all, if it could get that kind of expression from Tsukasa.

"Give it to her." Eijiro's fingers press the photo into his hand, trembling slightly. "Please."

He should say something flippant about trusting him with treasures. He should say that this isn't his war, just like the Rider War, and run and not look back.

But something in the man's tear-limned eyes keeps him from doing the first, and something that changed in him, watching everyone else die, watching even _Tsukasa_ die, doesn't want to do the second.

"I'll give it to her."

XXX

The boy saunters away as though nothing's wrong, as though he doesn't care, but Eijiro knows that's not true. Try as he might, it's obvious that the boy's attached to them. It's what draws him back, again and again.

What drew him back during the Rider War, though he didn't want to be a part, _refused_ to be a part. A wild card, playing in the wind, and maybe they can use that again. Maybe Daiki can be what he can't be, forging a new role in an old, old tale.

Or maybe he'll never see any of them again, and he's just sent the boy off to his death.

He shouldn't find it as comforting as he does that at least then all his children will die together.


	6. Part Five: Above the Deep of Heaven

**Disclaimer: **Decade still doesn't belong to me.

_Part Five: Above the Deep of Heaven_

She lets them take Tsukasa to the hospital because it's faster than her carrying him home on her own. She could do it, was in the process of doing it when the paramedics caught up to her, but it was taking far too long. Given how much Tsukasa was bleeding, and the fact that Kivala wasn't really able to help her… taking the calculated risk of allowing doctors in an unknown, potentially hostile world to work on him was the right thing to do.

Her fingers stroke along the bat's head, gently run along her body. Kivala had taken up residency in the folds of fabric at the bottom of her sweater less than a minute after Yuusuke left, and she can feel the tiny creature trembling still. It must have taken an impressive amount of bravery for her to come back and help face down one of the people she's most fond of in all the worlds. That kind of loyalty and devotion should be and would be rewarded.

Shaking her head, Natsumi frowns, fingers continuing to offer what physical comfort they can to Kivala. There's something wrong with the way she's thinking. Something alien in the way her thought patterns are trying to run today, but it's so hard to pin down when something's wrong with yourself.

"Yuusuke…" The little bat's whimper is barely discernable. "Yuusuke…"

"Shhhhh." She continues to pet the bat, thoughts jarred back to the nightmare they're currently trapped in. "It's all right. We'll go get him. We'll save him."

"Is it partly my fault?" Latching onto her finger, the bat blinks at her from subdued eyes. "Did I help make this happen? I played with that… that… with it. With the darkness. Like it was a fangire's hunger, but it's not. Did I—"

"No." She'd almost forgotten about Kivala's betrayal during the Rider War, the nip that gave Yuusuke the strength to heal at the cost of his sanity for a few hours. "He controlled it then. It took him time, but he controlled it. This isn't your fault. It's theirs. The Grongi and that kaijin."

Kivala starts trembling again, turning into the fabric and hiding. It's a reasonable reaction, Natsumi supposes, to whatever the kaijin did. It's what she did, after all, when he had her locked in his ice-cold embrace. Now, though… now there's no ice, no terror. Only fire.

How _dare_ he? How dare he hold her like that, bind her like that, reach into her mind and turn her own fears against her like that? The blasphemy inherent in the action… and then to compound it. To use her against one who is hers, to use Tsukasa, to make them weapons against _that which is theirs_—

Tsukasa shifts on the bed, the first movement he's shown since Yuusuke went away. How did this happen? How did they manage to hurt him so badly? To draw blood from him is one thing, has happened before if rarely, but to hurt him so deeply…

Her hands trace over the bandages swathing his chest. It was the Grongi's fault, and it was this body's fault. So fragile, human bodies. So easily broken by anything out of place. Not that plants were ever meant to root themselves in this one's body. Growth, life, that was for the other one. Not for this one. Not for the Destroyer, tamed but never broken. He could aid life, certainly, but to sustain it was not in his essence.

His chest is warm beneath her fingertips, beneath the bandages, and she smiles. Like calls to like, fire to fire, and his breathing hitches, quickens, takes on a more normal pattern. Brown eyes open, but there is fire in the center, playing in the depths, and a soft laugh escapes her lips.

He doesn't say anything as he sits up. Eyes locked on hers, his right hand slowly slides behind her head. Pulls her forward, to him, and she slides onto the bed gracefully.

The kiss is beautiful. Liquid warmth runs through her body as their lips touch, carriers her closer, closer to what they are meant to be. Together, dancing together, and her fingers tangle in his hair as she shoves him back down onto the bed.

The sound Kaitou makes isn't something she's ever heard before, and it's not something she ever really wants to hear again, especially from him. Part whimper, part laugh, part disgust and terror and _what is she doing?_

There's no time to think, no time to say anything before Kaitou is gone as quickly and quietly as he appeared, sprinting from the room. Her lips still burn as she crawls off the bed, but all heat is gone from the rest of her body. She can't meet Tsukasa's eyes as she backs toward the door. "I… I should… I'm sor—… I'll go find him."

Tsukasa doesn't answer, the expression on his face coldly analytical as she runs out.

She doesn't see Kaitou, which doesn't surprise her but sends her stomach through the floor anyway. It hadn't occurred to her until he showed up that they might have more help available to them, and yet now the thought of losing it is terrifying. How exactly is she supposed to find the thief? What direction does she run? What does she do if he's gone invisible?

She starts her search by heading toward the exit, because Kaitou's first reaction to something that traumatizes him seems to be attempting escape. _Why_ does he have to make these things so much more complicated? Yes, it was undoubtedly awkward for him to walk in on that, but really—

Kivala tugs hard on her shirt. She looks down at the little bat, intending to apologize for whatever she'd done since she completely forgot it was there. One of Kivala's wings lifts, pointing to a space between two gurneys against the far wall.

A space that seems empty, but that would definitely be wide enough for someone to stand between.

Her fingers hit the back of his jacket hard, bending them back uncomfortably. She doesn't pull away, just flattening her hand against the fabric. "Daiki. It's good to see you. Or not see you, I guess."

It's a bad joke, and the smile she had been trying to hold in place fades as he doesn't respond. Doesn't move, barely seems to be breathing, and her fingers work their way up to his shoulder, grip hard. "Daiki, I swear, that wasn't what it looked like."

"Oh? What… do you think it looked like?"

"Like I… kissed Tsukasa." The words feel so strange in her mouth, so wrong. Not that she's never thought of kissing Tsukasa—hell, she's _thought_ about kissing all three of her Riders, with varying degrees of seriousness—but to do it like that… with so much else going on…

"So you weren't really kissing Tsukasa?" He sounds more amused than she expected—certainly more amused than she is.

"I… was… I just…"

"Because it did kind of look like that. I mean, hell, I was pretty sure you guys are fond of _Yuusuke_. If it was me something happened to would the two of you even take the time to bury me, or just ignore the body and get down to business?"

"That's not fair! That's not… I… we…" Tears are pricking at her eyes again, threatening to run down her face. Yet she finds herself leaning towards him, resting her head against his back. It's not fair, what he's saying, but it's also not untrue. How could she? What was she thinking? "Daiki, I'm scared. I don't know what's happening to me, I don't know what's happening to _us_, and Yuusuke… Yuusuke…"

She doesn't cry, keeping the tears locked tight behind her eyelids, but she does start shaking again, violently.

"Hey…" Kaitou's tone is uncertain, nervous almost. He turns under her hands, facing toward her now, one hand reaching out to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. "Hey… it's all right."

The tears try even harder to escape, but she won't let them. Instead she throws caution and propriety away, wrapping her arms around the thief and holding onto him with all her might. After a few seconds his arms move to rest around her back. DienDriver dangles from his right hand, knocking against her side with each breath. She sighs, a deep breath of utter relief, and the shaking finally starts to pass.

For the first time in hours, she feels entirely like herself.

When she opens her eyes, Kaitou's visible again. He even grins at her, his left hand starting to edge up the side of her sweater. That's more than enough to earn him a laughing pressure point—not a hard one, though. Not now, and she rubs his back until he stops laughing and moves away from her.

"So…" He spreads his hands out to his side. Diend's back in whatever holster he has, though she hadn't seen him put it away. "Tell me what's going on."

"Mmm." She nods. "In Tsukasa's room. That way he can fill things in that I miss."

And that way the few observers they've managed to collect won't have any more reason to wonder about them. Maybe talking to and interacting with an invisible person hadn't been the greatest idea in the world.

Tsukasa's dressed in his black jeans and a plain white t-shirt he acquired from somewhere by the time they get back. A pile of bloody bandages is set neatly on the bedside table, and Tsukasa lies on the bed, legs crossed. He snaps a picture as they walk through the door before letting his camera hang loose on its strap.

"Tsukasa…" She hesitates to move toward him, but she can at least look him in the eye. "You need the bandages—"

"It's healed." He shrugs. "Scarred, but healed. Which means it's time we went after Yuusuke."

Kaitou sighs. "I swear the man's got a psychic 'attack here' sign on him. Assuming rumors are true and he's possessed again?"

"Yes."

"No."

Natsumi turns to look at Tsukasa.

"He's not… possessed like you're thinking. Think about it, Natsumi. Who did he act like?"

She doesn't have to think. It had been one of the things that made it so painful. "Yuusuke. He was acting just like Yuusuke."

"Which is why I believe him when he says it's only him and Kuuga in there still." Tsukasa sits up. "That and an insane amount of power that's meant to turn people into Grongi."

"That's what he was trying to do to us." It's a statement of fact, meant only for Daiki. "He touched us, and that power tried to go from him to us. I don't understand, though. In his world the Ultimate Darkness didn't work this way."

"No. On his world, the last Grongi released a gas that turned anyone and everyone into Grongi." Tsukasa frowns in thought. "Yuusuke said he wanted us. No… needed us."

Nodding slowly, Natsumi picks up the train of thought. "So if it was the Ultimate Darkness part talking… he's planning something. Planning on turning specific people, maybe? Why? If it's specific people, is it Riders he's after?"

"Someone visited the photoshop." Kaitou leans against the wall just inside the door. "Don't worry, your grandpa's fine. But he said they told him Yuusuke's going to end the worlds."

"No." Natsumi shakes her head. "We're not going to let that happen."

It can't happen. Not with Yuusuke. The thought of him being involved in that kind of destruction brings a sense of bone-deep _wrongness_, so intense she feels vaguely ill.

Tsukasa stands, just as steady on his feet as always. His hands drop down to play with his camera, lining up another shot. "Yuusuke's had this potential inside him for years now. He's even tapped into the Grongi power a few times—on his own, not being forced. We find him and we help him get control of it again."

"And if he tries to turn you? Kill you?" Kaitou's foot taps against the wall as he lists each possibility. "Raise an army against you? Do we kill them? Do we kill his little Grongi? Kill him?"

"Worst case scenario… we get the amadam out of him. Break it. Remove it. Whatever we have to do. Then we deal with any Grongi he's created that can't control themselves." Tsukasa's tone gets colder and colder as he talks. "Any problems with that?"

"Nope." Kaitou straightens. "Just as long as the two of you are ready for whatever you'll have to do. Whatever you might have to face."

"Tsukasa…" She wants to reach out, touch his arm, but she also doesn't. She still feels normal, feels human, and she doesn't want to risk losing that. "What about… us?"

"Kaitou." Tsukasa studies the floor. "When you came in… what did you see?"

"I saw… there was… it…" Kaitou stiffens. His eyes dart away, burn a hole in the far wall for a few seconds before coming back to rest on her. He smiles at her. "I saw Natsumelon and Tsukasa. That's all."

"Good." Tsukasa's expression isn't quite a smile. It's too dark, too determined, a challenge to the universe. "That's the way we're going to keep it."


	7. Part Six: Widening Gyre

**Disclaimer:** Neither Decade nor Double belong to me; I'm just having fun smooshing them together.

**Author's Note:** I'm playing with an AU Double world a bit here and in later chapters, so there might end up being some spoilers for the series. I doubt it will be anything big (more character relationships and interactions), and I shall attempt to warn anyone if I do spoil something big. (Actually, the next two chapters will have massive spoilers for the end of Blade, as an early FYI).

_Part Six: Widening Gyre_

They cut back into the world they started in only a few blocks from where they left. His control of the bridges between worlds is phenomenal, and she envies the skill and surety with which he both crafts and banishes the undulating walls. Even after the Man in Black's lessons, she finds them one of the more daunting things about the multiverse.

The one who was Kuuga stands watching the city, taking in the ebb and flow of people, and she finds herself holding her breath in preparation. Is he going to do it?

She tries not to let her disappointment show when he simply turns to her, fixing her with those black eyes full of power and potential.

There is no emotion in his voice when he speaks. "The man who worked with you. The one who hurt Natsumi. Where is he?"

"Probably at his office, my lord."

"Take me there." He gestures for her to lead, voice still empty, and she has no idea why this bothers her. There were bound to be changes when he took on the mantle, and it is more fitting for a Grongi lord to be like this.

She leads him, because it was obviously a command. As the only other surviving Grongi and the only one of Ra class alive she must act as his priestess, following his orders. Still…

"Can I ask what you're planning, my lord?"

"I'm going to tell him not to touch them." He shrugs, smiling at her, looking more like the youth she stalked these last weeks. "And perhaps thank him for his part in these events."

It's impossible for her to tell if he means the last as a threat or a genuine statement of gratitude. His mind is sealed to her now, drowned within a vortex of power that she can barely comprehend. He is what he was meant to be; he is also still, somehow, obsessed with the Linto he traveled with. "You know, my lord, that you could simply change everyone in the city."

"I could." He nods, smiling at a female they pass. The Linto stops, stunned, before scurrying to the other side of the street, a dazed expression on her face. If he notices or cares, it doesn't show. "Not just the city. Do you know what you gave me, Ra-Baruba-De? So many that you gave me. My world, his world, a dozen sister worlds. So many Grongi waiting to be born. If I let go, I can change this whole world, maybe. But to what end?"

He pauses, though the question seems rhetorical. Before she can come up with an answer that doesn't seem too flippant he continues.

"I won't thin my own herd. I choose each Grongi. The best generation, the strongest generation there has ever been. And then…" He smiles again, obviously pleased.

Ra-Baruba-De smiles as well, because even if this lord of the Grongi is so far a bit unorthodox, he obviously has the best of intentions for their people.

The Linto's estate is several hours walk from where they are, but he seems to be in no hurry, so she simply leads him along. She prefers walking to riding in the Linto inventions, anyway.

The guards at the Linto lord's residence let them through with ease, because she is well known there. The Ultimate Darkness studies each of them closely before turning away and continuing to follow her. What he is looking for she can't say, though his scrutiny makes the Linto guards decidedly uneasy.

The Ultimate Darkness… the lord of the grongi… Thinking of him in those terms lacks both ease and association. "My lord… what would you prefer I call you? Have you selected your Grongi name yet?"

The question seems to startle him, and he stops in his tracks, frowning in thought. "Call me… just keep calling me Yuusuke, for now. We'll be speaking Japanese most of the time, anyway."

She nods, not sure what to think of the decision. It is easy enough to think of him as Yuusuke—or as Kuuga—because that's how she first knew him. In both worlds, that's how she first came to know this Linto champion. But he is Grongi now, and for him not to choose a Grongi name…

"Ra-Baruba-De." The Linto—Sonozaki—calls to her as he descends the staircase. She's fairly certain he uses the stairs intentionally most times, allowing him to look down on his guests, establishing the superior party from the outset. It irks her that he would attempt to use that tactic now. Especially because he speaks as he usually does, cordially but with a cool distance to his voice, not affording them any additional respect. "And Kuuga… or the Ultimate Darkness now, I suppose?"

"Yuusuke." Yuusuke smiles, showing his teeth in a way that's obviously a threat. Whether or not the Linto understands she can't tell. "I wished to thank you. For helping me come into my power."

"No need for thanks." The Linto clasps his hands behind his back. "It was a more than fair business deal. I was able to observe you and to test several of my prototypes. And the monetary compensation provided by your companion was more than sufficient."

"Provided by the Man in Black." Yuusuke continues to smile. "Let's be fair with credit here."

"Ah. I was simply uncertain how aware you were of the circumstances. After all, so far as I understand it, you are quite…" The Linto searches for a term, his eyes fixed on Yuusuke's. She has to respect him, to be able to look that long into the darkness without going mad or backing away. "Young. Young and inexperienced, but with a great deal of potential. I look forward to seeing what you do."

"So does he." The smile fades from Yuusuke's face, only to reappear in a more sincere form a few seconds later. "So do I, actually. But that's not what I came here to discuss. The other two Riders who were present today. I want you to leave them alone."

"Ah. Really. That could be problematic." Shaking his head, the Linto walks around them. Does he not realize who the hunter and the hunted are here? Does he really not understand? "You see, they're rather fascinating specimens on several levels. The technology we could gain from them… the capacity to change the world… and the risk if someone else gets to it first…"

"They belong to me. You will not touch them." The command in Yuusuke's voice is unmistakable, as is the underlying threat.

Ra-Baruba-De smiles. The Linto has crossed one line too many, and now he will—

"A trade."

Startled, she looks again at her lord. His black eyes continue to bore into the Linto, but the threat is gone from his stance, from his voice.

"An interesting offer." Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Sonozaki considers them both. "Unfortunately I don't want—"

"Not for you. I don't want you." Yuusuke waves his hand dismissively, head turning, eyes fixing on another Linto man at the top of the staircase. "Him. I'll take him as my first. Study that. Leave the others alone."

Following Yuusuke's gaze, Sonozaki raises one eyebrow. "Indeed. Though I admire your taste, he's already claimed. One of my daughters has been interested in him for some time. It would disrupt an experiment of mine…"

They lock eyes, the Linto and her lord, and she doesn't understand how he does it. Linto have changed since her time, to have so many with such firm cores. Even among the specimens she has seen, though, Sonozaki is strong. Why does her lord dismiss him, and what is it about the man on the staircase that calls to him?

It's the Linto who looks away first, as she knew he would. "Fine. It won't be the first time we've had to find a replacement user for the Nazca memory."

"I'm glad we could reach an agreement." Yuusuke smiles again before heading up the stairs.

He moves inhumanly fast now, though still as the Linto was did. The same mix of clutzy awkwardness and warrior's grace, the same exuberance and basic thrill in living and moving. That is a Grongi trait, that ability to relish the speed, the poise, the absolute perfection of one's own body and the weapon it can become. It pleased her when she first saw it in him, and it pleases her still. He is perfect, this lord she has crafted from the ashes of what should have been. Just perfect.

The Linto man stands frozen at the top of the stairs, his eyes locked with her lord's. He doesn't shake, doesn't tremble or mewl or scream, and she gives him due credit for that. He does flinch, though, when Yuusuke reaches up and brushes a hand against his cheek.

"Shhh..." Yuusuke's voice is quiet, probably meant only for the Linto on the staircase. "Don't be afraid."

"Sonozaki-sama—" The man's words come out half-strangled.

"Be still, Kirihiko-san." The Linto man's hand is clutched tight on the object that allows him to transform. It is a small acknowledgment of the power filling the room, growing stronger and deeper with every beat of their hearts, but it is at least an acknowledgment. Strong the Linto may be, but not a fool. "Consider this another test. Like Nazca."

The Linto doesn't answer, doesn't blink, his eyes still locked on Yuusuke's. The dark power that is their people's lifeforce clings to them both, impossible shadows flickering against the light. Yuusuke keeps their eyes locked, his hand on the other man's cheek as he takes two steps up, rotating the Linto as he does. It leaves the Linto man's back to her, his larger frame and the shadows blocking her view of Yuusuke.

"You're mine."

She's not sure if she really hears the words or not as the shadows grow stronger, condensing, channeling, funneling. Her own arcle and amadam respond to the outflow of power, to the beautiful siren call of pure unadultered essence. Thoughts blur, become one with the insatiable hunger to move, to rend, to play and thereby prove oneself worthy. It is not a conscious decision to drop her Linto form, but never has her Grongi form felt so right or appropriate.

It is a testament to the Linto's strength that throughout the process he never screams.

XXX

He can't move.

Though every instinct in him says that he should run or fight, all he can do is stand there, meeting the thing's eyes.

"Don't be afraid."

The creature looks human, except for its eyes. A small human male, maybe twenty, not threatening at all except for those damn _eyes_ and the power reaching out of them. Power drawing him, drowning him, and he summons all his strength to fight against it.

_Don't_.

The word is whispered directly into his mind, but it is a moment of quiet, of peace in the midst of the clamoring madness of the darkness and so he clings to it.

_Yes._ Relief pours from the quiet… voice is so incomplete a word for what it is. Presence? Person? Yes and no.

Nothing human, certainly.

_If you could do one thing… one thing with your life and your death… what would you do, Kirihiko?_

The dark energy still rages around them, between them. It flows from the man as surely as this voice does, but it is held at bay, separated from them by an awesome force of will.

One thing… if he could do just one thing… it would be just what he's doing right now.

"Protect Fuuto." He whispers the words, sighs them into the creature's face.

A snarl of bestial fury rips itself from the thing's mouth, and it is too close, far too close. Eye to eye with him, nose to nose, and that dark energy continues to flow between them.

Fight. He should fight. To protect his city, to save the thing he loves, he _will_ fight this thing.

_Yes._ The word is a sigh of quiet certainty, of tentative, fragile hope. _Yes. Eventually. Kill me, even. But right now… just endure._

It kisses him. Roughly, viciously, all pressure and teeth and desperate driving need. The dark power that had been playing between them spears deeper into him than before while the protective barrier the voice had created vanishes, swept away in the outpouring of energy.

It creeps through every facet of him. It wends a path of fire through his mind, his memories, trying to scourge an emotion there, build one up here. It slides down every vessel, creeps along every nerve, before swirling to an eddying halt somewhere in his gut.

That is the most painful part, he supposes. The twisting, turning, wrenching sensations as the power coalesces, centers itself, rearranging his human anatomy so that it can live happily protected inside him. It isn't the worst part, though.

The worst part is trying to hold onto himself. Trying to remember what he's fighting for, to keep the need to protect and defend front and center in his mind so that this thing can't erase it. Fuuto is important. People are important. Life is important. He will not forget why.

No matter what this thing does to him, he will not forget why.

The creature pulls back from the kiss slowly, reluctantly, drawing the majority of its power with it. Not all, though. It may be barely a fraction, a whisper of what flowed through him originally, but there is still a very real remnant of the thing living inside him now. Pulsing in time with his heart, becoming more in tune with him with every breath, and his hand curls around his stomach.

He needs to get it out. He needs to do something, anything, because he will not become what it wants him to be.

Except… maybe it isn't that bad. Away from the swirling madness of the creature's eyes, with only the power of the thing it left behind to focus on, it seems less… malevolent.

If malevolent is even the right word for the creature, which hugs him tightly, expression both proud and pleased. "You're mine. My first."

_Forces of nature aren't good or evil._ The voice is barely a whisper, a breath of thought he can just catch. _Not until people get involved._

"I don't… understand."

_Do what you have to._ Exhaustion tinges the voice, an all-pervading weariness. _Stay true… please stay true…_

The creature backs away from him, eyeing him up and down before smiling and holding out his fist with his thumb up. "My first Grongi. What do you think, Ra-Baruba-De?"

The woman in question smiles at the creature, straightening the folds of her deep red dress. "A fine choice, my lord."

Grinning widely, the creature scampers back down the stairs. It's hard to imagine what it truly is, with its eyes turned away and that awful power somehow locked inside the small frame. It pauses in front of Sonozaki, holding out its right hand. "Take care of him for me."

For a long second the businessman simply looks at the creature's hand. Then he grasps it, gives it a strong shake. "I look forward to seeing what your generation will be able to do."

"Whatever I need them to." The grin softens as the creature turns back to him, and he drops his eyes to avoid being caught in that gaze again. "I'll be back for you. When I've figured out how I want to do things. Just have fun 'til I call you."

He has no idea what the creature does then. A casual wave of its hand causes the air in front of it to start to shimmer and undulate. Holding out a hand to the woman, it steps through, giving her arm a gentle tug when she hesitates to follow it. The hole fades a few seconds after they're both through.

"Well, Kirihiko-san?" Sonozaki Ryubee studies him with eyes that are just a bit more human than the creature's. "What does it feel like?"

What does it feel like? What does he _expect _it to feel like? Sacrificed to that creature with barely a second's thought, invaded and used by forces he didn't have an inkling even _existed _before now, and it feels…

Wonderful, actually. Absolutely wonderful, like wielding a Memory that was crafted just for him. That understands him, on a fundamental level, and will do everything in its power to aid him. Flexing his hands, he appreciates the fine movement of each muscle, the steady flow of blood, the soft network of nerves that allows him to do everything.

"Kirihiko?"

The Linto's nervous. He can smell that from here, though the Linto's careful not to show it. His lips draw back from his teeth in a predator's smile as he contemplates the man. "I'm fine, Sonozaki-sama. It's actually quite the… enlightening experience."

"We'll certainly attempt to make it that way. Come." He turns away, trying so hard to mask his uneasiness with the situation. "We'll have Isaka-sensei study what's been done."

"Ah." He nods, strolling down the stairs. He can't help smiling as he follows the older man.

Let Isaka study all he wants. Once the doctor's had his fun, he'll take his leave of this place and see what this new body can _really_ do.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks he hears the faint echo of someone weeping.


	8. Part Seven: Turning and Turning

**Disclaimer:** None of the shows or characters mentioned in here belong to me.

**Author's Note:** MASSIVE SPOILERS for the end of Blade will appear in this chapter. Otherwise, nothing much to warn for. Sorry for the long delay in posting this—I have the whole story completed, it's just getting it formatted to post and finding time. Hopefully you enjoy!

_Part Seven: Turning and Turning_

They go back to the photo studio, which Kaitou finds rather anticlimactic following their declarations of war. It's getting late, though, and Natsumi wants to make sure her grandfather's safe. It makes perfect sense to regroup at the shop before heading out again, and there's no real argument against it other than that it feels wrong.

Besides, he's never been one to turn down an offer of a free dinner.

Tsukasa and Natsumi are abnormally quiet, each seeming focused inward, lost in their own thoughts. Though Natsumi hugs her grandfather and asks him several times if he's all right, there's something missing from the gestures. Something reserved. Something scared?

He won't think about that, though. Won't dwell on what he saw when he walked in on them. It had just been two young, stupid, stressed people acting inappropriately. Just a kiss, and he can tease them about it for months if he plays his cards right. There's no _reason_ to let it be anything more, so he won't.

He doesn't tease them about keeping him between them, though.

On the street, in the studio, now at the table, they always place him between them. A buffer, a safe zone, a human shield, and it should annoy him. It really should. But he doesn't want to be the one that breaks whatever links to humanity they're holding on to, so it doesn't.

"I've had more than enough sleep today." Tsukasa's voice cuts easily over the news report of a freak thunderstorm. "Natsumikan?"

"I'm not tired." Her mouth twists as she says it, an expression of frightened uncertainty that she quickly banishes. "Kaitou?"

"I'm a thief. It'll hardly be the first time I've worked at night." Finishing the last of his dinner in a few quick bites, he stands. "So, who and how…"

They don't say anything. Just a few quick glances, small gestures with shoulders and faces, but it's obvious that it's an entire conversation. Natsumi smiles when it's done, as though Tsukasa said something funny, and takes a few steps away from the table. "We'll be back soon, Grandpa."

"Are we planning on making any more of a plan?" They don't have to put him between them now; he moves there as quickly as he can. "I mean—"

"We already discussed the plan." Tsukasa doesn't look at him, eyes fixed on Natsumi. "Find Yuusuke. Stop him."

"That's not—"

There's no more time to argue, though. Taking a deep breath, Natsumi lashes out with one hand, ripping a hole in the fabric of the world.

XXX

"No."

He spins, dropping the young woman in his hands to the ground. Mana. His twentieth, and she is lovely, perfect in every way, deserving of his attention as she struggles to assimilate the power he has given her.

But they're coming for him, and he can't allow that.

_Too soon, too soon, need more._

His hand touches the hole between worlds as it shimmers into being, sinks just a few centimeters beneath the surface. He would never have dreamed of doing something like this, not before he gained the power, but now…

Somewhere that will distract them. Somewhere that will take time.

He lets instinct reign as the dark power pours out of him, shifting the destination of the shimmering wall.

He'll let them catch up with him eventually, when he's ready for them to be together again, but not now.

XXX

He's fighting her.

She growls, a tiger's angry snarl, and throws her own power against him. She will not be dictated to by him. She will not—

_All his._ It's a small voice in the midst of the maelstrom of power they wield, and she almost misses it. _Better that way, I guess._

Sorrow drips from the words, sadness but not despair. She can't afford the distraction, can't afford the power needed to latch onto the quiet presence and talk. She does it anyway.

_Yuusuke!_

_No._ It's a lie, and they both know it. But calling this thing Yuusuke is also a lie, a limitation on something greater. _Part of him is here with me, yes. But he's also… that._

That, the crushing, maddening energy that's pushing her away, redirecting the path between worlds that she created to somewhere else.

_Yuusuke, please. Let us help you._

_I will._ It would smile, this thing that has no body, but the smile would go with tears. _You'll free me eventually. You and my children. But you can't now. So go. You already chose the one you will be._

The tiger. The dancer. The dark one, spinning by her lover's side, stepping over his body carelessly when the madness of the drums takes her; the light one, calm grace to his destructive vitality, and it's so easy to give into it. So easy to say that yes, this is her; yes, she will be that one. The warrior and the wife, the one with six arms and as many swords and yet also the one who will tame Change. The one who can take the dancer and make him _stay_, bind him as strongly with family as the universe does with song.

But there are other potentials within her. She touched them, briefly, when Yuusuke was with her. Lotus petals against her face, growing from his flesh; the gentle lap of water, and there is so much peace there. Tranquility, wisdom, _teaching_, so much gentle nurturing of the best that humanity can offer, and how can he say that she's turned her back on that? The fire burns hot, burns fast, holds her tight, but that doesn't mean she can't love the water.

_Yuusuke! Yuusuke! _"Yuusuke!"

She stumbles and falls to her knees as the world snaps into being around them. The dark pressure that drove her here is gone; so is the small, shining thread that she spoke with.

Her head hurts, pounds in time to the beating of her heart. Blinking, she tries to get her vision to clear, her mind to start processing actual sensory information again. It's sundown in the world around them, the trees of a forest dimming the light even more, so at least it isn't painfully bright.

A bitter part of her says that it shouldn't surprise her when the first thing she focuses on is the barrel of a rifle, pointed straight at her head.

XXX

The man with the gun burns.

He doesn't think about doing it. He just reacts, seeing the threat to her as he steps through the door between worlds that she created.

"Stop it!" Her hand closes with vicious strength around his wrist, grinding the tiny bones together. "Tsukasa, _stop it!_"

The name washes over him like a wave of cold water. The fire surrounding the man with the rifle flickers, fades; the fire that had flared to life in his blood tries desperately to continue burning, but he won't let it. He is Tsukasa, not whatever force is trying to use him as a vessel, and he doesn't kill people like that. He doesn't—

The kaijin charges them from the side, catches him hard in the chest and wrenches him away from Natsumi.

"Killer." The creature snarls the word down at him. There are no lips to cover its serrated, vicious teeth; broken antenna sweep back from its almost skull-like head. Liquid that can only be blood, though it's a bright neon color somewhere between yellow and green, drips slowly from a dozen lacerations. "Monster. Kill you. Have to kill you."

He finally recognizes the voice, even distorted by the kaijin form. "Blade?"

The thing… howls, though the eerie cry is like nothing Tsukasa's ever heard before. Skittering back, it stands on shaky feet, raising one clawed hand to strike with.

Kivala's sword smashes against the monster's hand, sending it stumbling away from them.

"No." Kenzaki studies his clawed hand. "Not… you… but he's killing… have to…"

The hail of bullets catches him in the back. He makes no sound with the impacts, though the stream of green blood from his mouth increases. Sinking down to his knees, he falls forward, assuming his familiar human form again.

Rising slowly, Tsukasa looks beyond the fallen Rider to the men emerging from the trees. They wear camouflage uniforms, and the rifles they carry are expensive. Identical to the man that he burned, and one of them stops by the body, checks a pulse before grabbing the radio at his belt and calling for medical assistance.

So at least the man's alive. Tsukasa exhales softly, something like relief flowing through his veins. He's not killing without choosing to. Not yet, and not ever if he has anything to say about it.

The men with the rifles ease slowly closer to them, most of the weapons focused on Natsumi's Rider form. The fire in his blood tries to grow again, to gain precedence over him, but he won't allow it. "Well, aren't you the interesting group."

One of the men at the back of the group—seven now, total—shifts his gun from Natsumi to him. "Where are you two from? What happened here?"

"We're just passing-through Kamen Riders." Eyeing Kenzaki's prone form, he takes a step forward, standing at Natsumi's side now. "I think the bigger question is, what are _you_ doing?"

"Down on the ground. Both of you. And off with the armor." The man's rifle dips just slightly, gesturing toward the ground as though they didn't know where it was.

Tsukasa frowns in annoyance. "There's no reason—"

"Now or we will shoot to kill."

Seven fingers tighten around triggers. Tsukasa can feel his lips pull back from his teeth, the fire growing stronger and hotter in his blood. How _dare_ they. When he can kill them with a gesture, a thought, and is trying so hard instead to help them, to teach them, to give them the power to change and grow, how dare they—

No. Not his thoughts, not his power, and he won't give into it. He won't. Decade's his, not the fire. His vision blurs, fades, and he's not aware of anything else as he slowly, carefully forces his hand around to grab DecaDriver.

"Move any slower, Tsukasa, and a sloth'll beat you to it." Kaitou's hand closes on DecaDriver, jerks it away from his grasping, half-numb fingers. "This is why I kept telling you—"

"Mine." It's ridiculous, the way his heart's racing. Pathetic, the way he _needs_ to have the belt in his hands, but the fire's so close, so close—

"Fuck." Kaitou's hands close over his, wrapping his fingers tightly around the familiar shape. "Tsukasa, breathe. Look at me and breathe."

He blinks, and it only takes a handful of times for Kaitou to come into focus. Pulling his hands free, he frowns in annoyance at the thief. "Do not touch my belt again. Ever."

Kaitou backs up a step, the worry disappearing from his expression as though it had never been there. "Like I'd want yours. Mine's better."

Looking over the thief's shoulder, Tsukasa reassesses the situation. All of the military personnel are piled haphazardly around one of the larger trees. Kaitou's Todoroki summons stands guard over them, looking rather bored with the entire situation.

"That's where you disappeared to." It was a good tactic, even. Running, assessing the situation, and then bringing both his summons and the element of surprise to the fight would have given Kaitou more than enough tactical advantage to win. Not that he'll ever _tell_ the thief it was a good idea.

Returning DecaDriver to its usual spot, Tsukasa strolls over to Natsumi, now out of her armor and leaning over Blade's prone form. "How is he?"

"Bad." Her hands are coated in his phosphorescent blood, which she tries unsuccessfully to wipe off on the grass. "Really bad. We need to get him to a hospital or—"

"He won't die." Settling down on the ground across Blade's body from her, he stares at the man. "Kenzaki Kazuma's immortal. He's going to hurt like hell for a long time, but he won't die."

"But you… during the Rider war, didn't you…" Natsumi trails off, eyes dropping to the ground.

During the Rider War. During the time they never talk about, when he became what Kenzaki and the others needed him to be to save the worlds. When he became something that could kill the unkillable, destroy that which should never have been able to be destroyed.

"There are going to be reinforcements coming, and I'd prefer not to be here when they arrive." Kaitou isn't looking at them, instead keeping watch on the trees around them. "Since I don't see Yuusuke, I'm going to assume this isn't where we intended to go—"

"He sent us here." Natsumi raises one hand to her face, notices the blood, and lets it dangle down again. "He fought what I was doing, which I didn't even know was _possible_, and redirected the bridge here. He also… there's something… he's still fighting. Whatever he's doing, he's not just going to destroy everything. He's fighting."

"Of course he is." Smiling, Tsukasa lifts the unconscious Rider. "He's Yuusuke. Natsumi?"

"Wait." Kaitou gestures toward Kenzaki. "We're taking that? And we're leaving?"

"We're going back to the photo shop, we're going to wake him up, and we're going to see what he knows." Tsukasa smirks at the thief. "I know it's hard for you, but try to keep up."

"I know it's hard for you, but try to remember that about five minutes ago he was trying to eat your face. Or are you counting on your girlfriend to protect you again?"

The tension is sudden, immediate, and Tsukasa watches as Kaitou freezes, looks down. Sullen, angry, scared, hurt, and so certain that he's broken things again. Tsukasa sighs. He forgets, most times, how vulnerable Kaitou is.

Natsumi grabs Kaitou's hand in hers, and if he cares about the blood he doesn't say anything. "We're going home, Daiki. I think Yuusuke might have sent us here for a reason. We'll try to figure that out and decide what to do next. And if you ever try to imply that I shouldn't be protecting you or Tsukasa or Yuusuke again, I'll hit you so hard you won't stop laughing for a week."

"No comment about the girlfriend part?" Kaitou's joking, mostly, but there's a ginger undertone to the comment. After all, that was the part that was frightening. That was the part none of them want to think about, the thing he dragged too close to the light with his first jab. The kiss, the power, the protectiveness, the connection that keeps trying to snap into place between them…

Natsumi smiles, showing more teeth than necessary. Her free hand lashes out, opening the door between worlds once more. "Stupid things aren't worth commenting on, Daiki."


	9. Part Eight: The Falcon and the Falconer

**Disclaimer:** Kamen Rider doesn't belong to me, nor do any of the other series mentioned in this chapter.

**Author's Note:** SPOILERS for the end of Blade are still present in this chapter. Other than that, nothing. There are lots of allusions to non-Rider shows in this, but nothing spoilery. A little bit of blood, but nothing too gory. Enjoy!

_Part Eight: The Falcon and the Falconer_

Tsukasa carries Kenzaki into the kitchen, leaving a trail of phosphorescent blood behind him. He drops the other Rider to the ground, arranges him on his stomach, and turns to peruse the knives.

"Tsukasa?" Natsumi leans down by Kenzaki's head, watching his breathing. "What are you doing?"

"Choosing something to cut with." He wipes his right hand off on his pants before grabbing a small knife.

"Why?" Brows furrowed, Natsumi rises to a crouch.

"Because he's got a dozen or so bullets in his back. Taking some of them out should help him heal." Grabbing a pair of scissors, he starts cutting the blood-soaked shirt off Kenzaki.

"I…" Biting her lip, Natsumi nods and settles back down. "You're sure it's best for him?"

"Well, we can't exactly take him to a hospital." Tsukasa smirks. "I somehow doubt they have a good blood match. And like I said, he's immortal. Even if I do botch something, he won't die."

"Yeah, but we don't want to hurt him more than he already is. He's been through enough, Tsukasa." Natsumi smoothes hair off the man's face, leaving trails of green blood behind. "Kaitou, could you get the first aid kit?"

Kaitou snorts. "Because a few aspirin and some bandages are going to do a whole lot for all that. Hey, no threats, I'm going."

Shaking his head, he goes to dig their admittedly well-stocked kit out of the bathroom. It really shouldn't surprise him that their response to dragging someone home unconscious is to try to treat them with the first aid kit—it's what Yuusuke did with him after the kaijin stole Diend, after all. Maybe aversions to hospitals just go with being a Rider. And at least they have a good excuse with Kenzaki.

Thunder rumbles above the shop and rain pelts against the windows, providing a nice atmosphere as Tsukasa works with his improvised surgery tools.

"Would anyone like some tea?" Eijiro edges around Tsukasa and Natsumi, stepping with exaggerated care over the blood pooling on the floor as he moves toward the stove. "Or cookies?"

Natsumi looks up at her grandfather, the expression on her face lovingly exasperated.

"Why not?" Kaitou catches Natsumi's eye and shrugs, grinning. "It's not like anything else's even remotely right about this situation. Might as well have cookies and tea while doing surgery on a kaijin-Rider hybrid in the middle of the kitchen floor with a kitchen knife and tweezers. He's going to live, anyway. What are a few cookie crumbs in the holes?"

He says the last with a fair approximation of Tsukasa's voice and mannerisms, and Natsumi hides a grin behind her hand. Tsukasa throws him a glare before continuing with his work.

It's almost comfortable, standing in the kitchen with them, the smell of baked goods slowly overtaking the moist, alien smell of Kenzaki's blood. Even the thunderstorm seems fitting. If there were just one more of them…

The kaijin's body crashes through the door of the photo studio, continuing to roll through the splinters until it fetches up hard against the far wall. Its skin is light blue, its blood standing out as a brilliant, almost human red against that background as it staggers to its feet. Wiping a hand against its mouth does little more than smear the blood there around.

Well, that and show off its claws and teeth.

Sighing, Kaitou finishes the cookie he had been working on and lifts DienDriver up to his shoulder. "I've got to say, at least life with you guys is never boring. Henshin!"

XXX

Kenzaki won't die.

The man who helped betray him, who forced him onto a path of misery and despair, is helpless beneath his hands, and no matter what he does to him he won't die. He'll heal, even, though some things will take longer to heal from than others. Nerves, for instance, will take a few days to regenerate. Blood only a few hours. Anything else somewhere between, and he could hurt him. He could make him pay for everything that happened during the Rider War, everything that's happening _now_. Because whatever they did to him then is what's trying to claim him now, and they should pay for that.

But that's not what he does. Though it's tempting, that's not the kind of person Natsumi and Yuusuke want him to be. It's DaiShocker's great leader who repays betrayal with stronger betrayal, and he's not that person anymore.

Besides, someone's made very certain that Kenzaki's suffering already. The man's back is a mass of scars, the new bullet holes just the latest in a series of should-have-been fatal injuries. What happened in his world, to turn someone so utterly against him?

The kaijin comes through the front door as he's pulling the last of the bullets that he can reach out of Kenzaki's back. Rising to his feet, he snarls in protest, just barely keeping the fire from spilling out of him and engulfing the creature. It's bad enough that the kaijin's in their house, defiling the place that's somehow remained safe—almost sacrosanct—for the rest of their journey. Tsukasa doesn't need to try to burn the place down on top of that.

As the kaijin staggers to its feet, Tsukasa gets a good look at its stomach. At the belt buckle, intricately carved, that rests there. The feel of fire in his blood dies, washed away by cold knowledge.

Grongi. This thing is a Grongi, though there shouldn't be any in this world.

His hands leave smears of yellow-green blood across DecaDriver as he transforms, stepping over Kenzaki's prone form and heading for the door. What does it mean, a Grongi being here? Is it from this world? From another?

Following Kaitou and Natsumi as they sprint after the kaijin, he finds his hands curling into fists of their own accord.

Just what is Yuusuke planning?

XXX

There are four of them, a tightly-knit group that falls together in a protective formation as soon as they realize he's something dangerous. Which is pretty much as soon as he appears, between the shimmering wall he created and the dark power that's playing around his form, clinging to him like shadows.

Dark power he lets leap from him to them, because he wants all four. They're soldiers, in full military garb, rifles of some kind slung around their shoulders. Yashiro would have known what the guns were, but he doesn't care. It's not the training and the weapons he wants, though those are good. Well, the training at least, because the guns aren't important. Compared to the power he's giving them, the weapons they have are nothing. But having people who are willing and able to fight… three born warriors, and one who has learned to be so when he must…

He doesn't know what it is that calls to him, draws him to specific worlds and places throughout the multiverse, but something in these people wants to be his. Is _meant_ to be his, and it's a relief to share the power with them. To siphon even a tiny bit of the chaos raging through him into his new Grongi, and he smiles at them as they stagger back to their feet following the transfer.

A smile that turns to a grimace of pain as the eldest levels his gun and pulls the trigger, sending a short burst of bullets through Yuusuke's chest.

He keeps himself from charging the man, just barely. The bullets hurt, but they're not going to really injure him, and he doesn't want to destroy his own people. He knows he _should_, should punish the man for his impudence and make him an example to the others…

But he won't, because they're his, and he wants them. Needs them. And it's partly his fault that this happened, because he took all four of them at once, without properly focusing on each. Stupid, but they were calling to him so strongly, and the power he's containing is trying so hard to get away. So hard to do what's it meant to do, bring about transformation and death. A blood-bath, sweeping the world, and then he'll have the people he needs but without the problems that he's currently having. The weakest will die; the strongest will be groomed and taught, prepared for the gegeru.

But now isn't the time to do that. _Never_ is the time to do that, but especially not now, because he's not in the right world. Not in the world that has Natsumi and Tsukasa, and he won't lose control unless it will give him them.

The other two warriors are holding the eldest, keeping his gun pointed safely away. The fourth, the one who is sometimes a warrior and sometimes not, is approaching him. Wary, uncertain, both his old human senses and his new Grongi ones telling him this is dangerous, and Yuusuke smiles at him.

The man stops, freezes, and then speaks slowly. In English, maybe, because Yuusuke thinks he can catch a few of the words. Words like safe, and young, and why, and Yuusuke likes this one. He's friendly, and as fascinated by his new power as he is terrified of it.

Taking two quick steps forward, he hugs the new Grongi, pulling the man tight against him. The power inside him resonates with the power he placed in the man, reinforcing what he's done, drawing the Grongi instincts and knowledge closer to the fore. "You're mine."

He speaks in the Grongi language, because it's the one they have in common now.

He smiles when the newborn nods, expression dazed.

The eldest man screams, a cry of mixed outrage and terror, and transforms. He draws his Grongi form around him like he's been doing it all his life, tapping into and using the power to pull away from his companions. Not hurting them, but shoving them away. Ripping the other young Grongi away from him, and Yuusuke feels the power rising again. Trying to break away, because this kind of insubordination shouldn't be allowed. Must not be allowed.

But the man's his, and it's not his fault that he doesn't understand. Not his fault at all, and Yuusuke lets the man's claws sink into his arms, places his hands on either side of the man's face, and kisses him. "Mine. You're all mine. And you can fight me later, but not now. Please. Don't make me kill you."

"They're mine." The man's voice stumbles over the unfamiliar syllables of the Grongi language. "You can't take them. My team."

"Part of my army." This man understands armies, is a soldier to the core of his being. Yuusuke's fingers stroke along the ruff of salt-and-pepper fur at the back of the Grongi's neck. A wolf. A fitting totem for this man. "Protect them and serve me. I'll be pleased enough with that."

"You…" The man's claws tighten, sink further into Yuusuke's arms before retracting entirely. "You are the weirdest nightmare I've ever had. Which is saying something, with everything else we've seen." The man's Grongi form shimmers, fades, and he tries to pull away.

Yuusuke reluctantly releases his hold, allowing the man to fall back and stand in front of his team. Protecting them, receiving comfort from them as they reach out and touch his shoulders hesitantly, uncertain whether he's still human.

Which he isn't, to be fair, but none of them are anymore.

"Guys? This is a nightmare, right?"

They don't answer him. They don't have to. The fact that he's still speaking the Grongi language tells him all he needs to know.

"You're mine." Yuusuke prowls around them, being sure to touch the woman and the one with the dark skin, too. Just reassuring, reinforcing, making certain that the power has taken in the proper way. "But I don't need you right now. Soon, but not now. So stay and learn. I'll call you when I'm ready for you."

"And we'll just come like good little dogs." The eldest picks his rifle back up, slinging it over his shoulder. His words are less awkward now, the Grongi tongue sounding almost natural. "Right."

It's sarcasm. He knows that, knows that the man is mocking him, and also that it's how the human he made this Grongi from always reacted to threats. When he couldn't shoot them, at least. He doesn't rise to the bait. He doesn't need to. "You'll come. Be safe until then."

The bridge leaps to him, and he steps into it eagerly, only vaguely aware of Ra-Baruba-De still trailing him like a second shadow. The power's getting restless again, yearning to reach out and take more, change more. He doesn't mind, though. There are plenty of worlds, plenty of people, and he'll keep going as long as he has to. Until he has as many as he needs, and then he'll call them to him and…

Best not to think too far ahead. It makes it harder to maintain control, harder to be the container he needs to be, and it won't change anything. Everything's happening just the way it's supposed to. He's certain of that, so there's no need to waste energy pondering.

Stepping through the wall, he surveys the new world they're in. Not Japan again, not that it matters. Not the world with Tsukasa and Natsumi either, something whispers in his mind, and he sighs in disappointment but not surprise. It's not time to take them yet. Soon, but not yet.

So he'll find who he _is_ supposed to take here, and then move on.

"My lord…" It's been some time since Ra-Baruba-De spoke, and he turns to her in surprise. "Your clothes…"

"Oh." Looking down at his clothing, he frowns. Natsumi stabbing him had left a fair amount of blood, but it had mainly soaked his T-shirt, leaving the top two layers of his clothes clean. Now, though, there are very obvious bullet holes in all his shirts, tears down the sleeves and even more blood, soaking through in odd patches. Sticking his finger in one of the holes, he rubs at the fresh blood, smearing it along his hand. Still red, not that this surprises him. Grongi always bleed red, just like the human stock they're elevated from. "Well. Doesn't really matter, I guess."

"We could get you new clothes, my lord. It would be simple enough to—"

"No." Turning away from her, he scans their surroundings. Desert, and a town that looks like something from an old American western. "We keep going."

"As you like." She watches him closely, and he can feel her wondering about him, peering at the little of his mind she can still reach through the power she gave him.

He smiles at her, shaking his head. "It's nothing wrong. Nothing weak or human, Ra-Baruba-De. I just don't see any sense wasting time on something so… pointless."

It's true, really. Worrying about frightening people with your appearance is a human thing, not a Grongi thing. There's nothing else working within him, no other reason he doesn't want to part with these rags.

Walking through the town, he wonders at the silence of it. There should be more people. There should be more sound, even without people. Nature never hesitated to reclaim what was hers once the humans left. Silence as deep and still as this, a lack of life, is unnatural, and it makes his skin crawl.

"Oh, it's natural enough."

Spinning, he fixes his eyes on the Man in Black.

"Natural enough for _this_ world, at least. For a world that's dying, in a universe that's dying. Falling to chaos." The man speaks easily, with a casual detachment. "Kuuga… Yuusuke… Darkness… this world has nothing for you. Continue on."

"It does." The words come unbidden, but he's not afraid to speak them. Almost wants to, to challenge this thing before him, because it's not a person. Not remotely, though it is able to pretend better than most creatures like it. "Several of them. Somewhere here. A boy who will die to protect his friends, his father. A woman who will die to protect her lover, her father, her sibling. A man who will—"

The Man in Black's hand is around his throat between one breath and the next, easily cutting off any ability to talk. His tone is still the same, though. Completely unperturbed. "No, Yuusuke. Not for you. Not for the thing crawling inside you. Is it still trying to fight us? Even now? I thought for sure you would have purged yourself of it by now."

He can't speak. Can't move, though he tries, ripping at the offending limb with both hands.

The Man in Black smiles at him.

It's that, more than anything else, which causes him to lose control. His battle cry is a choked-off, hoarse whisper of air barely moving, but fire comes to his call. Climbs around the man, leaps from his skin, incinerates his clothes, and he should be howling in agony.

Instead he laughs, tightening his hold. "You can't hurt me, Yuusuke."

Kuuga's armor flows over him, as instinctive as breathing, and it should break the man's hold. It doesn't, though, the creature repositioning its hand between one thought and the next, too fast for Yuusuke to even attempt to make use of the gap to breathe.

Ra-Baruba-De attacks with the quiet determination of someone well-used to battle, the vines of her Grongi form wrapping around the man's limbs. Thorns dig into flesh, tendrils quest downward, and the Man in Black spares a sideways glance for her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, woman."

"Then release him."

The Man in Black tilts his head back, contemplating the flat, dead blue of this world's sky. Then his lips turn up in a soft, predatory smile. "No."

Yuusuke sees the look and he struggles. He kicks, punches, snarls as best he can though the world's starting to go black, but it doesn't stop the man from hurting her.

The cut is deep, shearing through the dense, living tendrils of her flesh as though they were tissue paper. Red blood flows down her arm, down her chest, thick and fast. She doesn't retreat, though. With a soft smile of her own and a snarled invective, she throws herself toward the creature.

He won't let her be hurt again, though. Not for him. Not trying to protect him.

The darkness that he's been containing shrills against the bonds he's placed on it, yearns toward the man before him, and he taps into it, throwing caution to the wind.

"No!" The Man in Black's cry is legitimate, almost pained, as his hands lock onto both Yuusuke's arms. "Not here."

The wall between worlds opens beneath them, around them, and Yuusuke finds himself looking into eyes just as black and deep as his own.

Even deeper, perhaps.

"Not in that world, Kuuga." The anger is gone from the Man in Black's voice. The complacency is gone, too, replaced by a warm, comforting nature that is impossible to ignore or disbelieve, though he knows he shouldn't trust it. "That world is mine, you see. One of the places I have a story playing out. A small one, but a dear one. One where I have so many parts… where I've spent so long getting all the pieces to come together just so. Which means I can't let you have any of them. They already have ranks within my army, though they strive against that fate with all their might."

"I don't care. You hurt her." The words lack the strength he thinks they should have, but it's impossible to yell at this man right now. Hard even to think, the swirling depths of his eyes blocking out all individual thought.

"That isn't who you are anymore." The man's hand strokes along the side of Yuusuke's face. "You gave into it, remember? Threw away your humanity, inviting us inside, and we're not going to let you go, Yuusuke. I know it's hard, with that other parasite thinking it already claimed you. But you belong to me. You know this, don't you?"

No. His lips form the word, because there is still something inside him that rebels at being claimed by this thing. But that's silly. Ridiculous, even, because the power inside him is mirrored and strengthened a thousand folds in the eyes of the Man in Black. "Yes. I'm… yours."

"Oh, Yuusuke." The Man in Black smiles fondly, and it's one of the most terrifying things Yuusuke has ever seen. "Come. Let me help you with your little… problem."

There's no time to say yes or no. No time to prepare himself before the darkness reaches out and draws him in, drowns him in malignant emptiness. It is kin to the Grongi power that has made him its home, yes, but like the dire wolf is kin to the dog. The power flowing through him, trapped by him, is meant to create as well as destroy, to empower as well as control; the power locked in the Man in Black is meant for nothing. _Is_ nothing, an empty reaching blackness, a blankness that consumes all it touches.

And he can't get away from it.

He doesn't know how long he spends locked in the darkness. There is no sense of time there, no sense of anything passing. Of change, yes, oh yes, because nothing is the same between one thought and the next, but there is no order to it. No flow. Just maddening, empty, shifting, overcrowded nothingness.

The next thing he's aware of is Ra-Baruba-De holding him. They are sitting on a hill, in a living world, the quiet sounds of creatures wafting to them on a flimsy night breeze. A gibbous moon hangs in the sky, and the Man in Black stands silhouetted against it.

"Do you understand now?" The Man in Black speaks gently, though his smile is razor-sharp. "You're ours. No longer Yuusuke. No longer Kuuga. The Ultimate Darkness comes from us, and so you belong to us. You, and all you create."

"Yes." His voice is hoarse, and his throat feels raw and bruised, inside and out. "I understand."

"Good." The man turns away, staring down at the lights of a town below them. "Then maybe you can speed things up a bit. You've taken how many? Two hundred? Your body and my patience are only going to last so long."

Hauling himself to his feet, he meets the man's eyes. Not unfathomable pits now, but still black, a dark iris surrounding a darker pupil. "Better we have a competent army than a large one that slaughters itself. Don't you agree?"

The creature's laughter is rich, vibrant, utterly inhuman and utterly amused. "Still… even after that, still infested. Ah, Kuuga… do what you will. Whatever army you bring me, I'll be sure to put it to good use. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've other stories to see to."

The Man in Black laughs again, a hearty chuckle as he steps between worlds. The sound seems to linger, to echo hauntingly in the trees around them. He doesn't shiver at it, though. Grongi don't shiver from fear… Grongi don't _fear_, not those who will live, at least.

"That thing does not control us, my lord." Ra-Baruba-De's quiet voice comes from behind him. Her hand rests on his shoulder, the pressure feather-light. "The Grongi acknowledge no lord such as he."

Dangerous words. Fighting words. Fitting words for a Grongi, and he turns and smiles at her before reaching out and cutting his own bridge between worlds. "We'll see where his plans take us. Right now…"

The power surges within him again, searching for an outlet. Stronger now, maybe, having seen what it is meant to be, absorbed some of the pure darkness that lies at the center of the Man in Black. It's almost painful, the way it rages and rears against being contained, the way it begs mindlessly and ceaselessly to be loosed. He won't give into it, though. If he has to create a thousand grongi, ten thousand, a million, he'll do so, but he won't surrender to it.

He smiles at her as he takes her hand again, drawing her once more through the bridge he has created and into a new world. "Right now, we have stories of our own to intervene in."


	10. Part Nine: Twilights of Dew and of Fire

**Disclaimer:** I own neither Decade nor Double; I just fell in love with the characters in both.

**Author's Note:** There are SPOILERS for Blade, Decade and Double in here (less so for Double at this point, though there will be end-of-series spoilers for Double later on). There is also some gore, so please beware. Thanks for reading!

_Part Nine: Twilights of Dew and of Fire_

Dopant.

That's the proper name for the creature that the Grongi's fighting, and Tsukasa pauses for a moment, trying to recall all he can about this world. Double's world, which he's touched before, once as DaiShocker's leader and once, very briefly, as Decade. It won't be the same as either of the parallel worlds he's known, but something useful might be in the scattered knowledge he has.

Like the fact that this Dopant is called Weather, and was a nasty piece of work when Tsukasa knew him in the other world. A doctor, but in the Mengele sense of the world. Not that this necessarily means he's a bastard in _this_ world, but people's souls tend to remain the same even if the particulars of their story vary from world to world.

Still… attacking the wrong person would be embarrassing and counterproductive.

The Grongi he's been following is fast and agile, sprinting between cars, dashing erratically from one side of the street to the other despite the rain that's pelting against everything, always angling in on the Dopant. Lightning springs again and again from the Dopant's hand, coming close to but never actually touching the Grongi.

Teeth bared in a feral snarl, the Grongi finally charges straight at the other monster. He gets close, his claws coming scant inches from the creature's throat, but close isn't good enough. With a casual flick of its hand, the Dopant sends an icy column of water laced through with lightning into the center of the Grongi's chest. The Grongi flies backward, slamming into a brick wall with bone-crushing force.

"Enough, Kirihiko-san." The dopant walks toward the Grongi, and he's somehow dry despite the storm raging around them. "You've demonstrated your new abilities quite well. It's time we returned home."

"You hurt him." Standing carefully, one hand braced on the cracked wall behind him, the Grongi snarls at the dopant. "He's just a boy. And you hurt him."

That's enough information for Tsukasa to decide whose side he's on. It's what he wanted, anyway. Even as DaiShocker's leader he hadn't liked Weather—the man was far too arrogant, far too certain of his own superiority and right to do what he wanted. DaiShocker's great leader didn't like others encroaching on his right to hubris.

Smirking, Tsukasa slips a card into DecaDriver.

The Rider kick catches the dopant square in the back, sends him crashing to the ground. It doesn't kill him or knock him out of his kaijin form, though, and Tsukasa frowns in annoyance as the dopant turns to face him. He'd been hoping to end this quickly and easily, so he could get down to the business of interrogating the Grongi.

The energy blast catches him in the back, sends him down to his knees, and he curses. Twisting around, he brings his sword up in time to deflect the next blast, the energy discharging with a sizzle and a hiss of steam.

"My, my…" It's a female voice that caresses the words.

The dopant floats above him, and he rifles through his scattered memories for any information on this one. Taboo. In the Double world he had known she was one of the Sonozakis, the eldest daughter, and someone to be feared.

"You must be one of the new Riders." The dopant zigs left, then right, eyeing him from all directions. "We're quite interested in you, you know. I don't suppose you'd like to come with me?"

"No, thanks." Climbing to his feet with as much dignity as he can manage, he turns to match the dopant's movements. "I'm more a passing-through Kamen Rider."

"Pity." Raising her hands, the dopant collects another ball of energy, unperturbed by the sparks shooting off it as each raindrop strikes. "Though I'm used to men making things more difficult than they need to be."

Diend's blast clips Taboo's arm, twisting her around. "Now, now. It's not just our fault. People in general tend to make things more complicated than they need to be. Though I won't argue about Tsukasa being very good at being difficult."

"I should have known Wakana wouldn't be able to handle you." Floating higher, the Dopant lobs an energy blast at Kaitou.

Diend dodges, coming to stand just behind Decade. "Well, Tsukasa?"

"I am not your shield, Kaitou." Shoving the other man a few feet away, he grabs another card, frowning and putting it back a moment later. Kuuga. Not a form he wants to use right now, and not the card he'd been trying to draw. "Where's Natsumi?"

"Following another one. I haven't seen her for a few minutes." Diend shrugs. "She said she'd be fine."

Tsukasa's snarled response is cut off, Taboo's blast sending the two of them and a large chunk of the road flying.

Fine, then. He'll deal with her as quickly as he can, and then go take care of whatever creature's threatening Natsumi. Fire flickers around his fingers as he draws another card, but it doesn't burn. It's his as much as Decade is, and between the two forces anything that tries to fight him doesn't have a prayer.

XXX

The kaijin doesn't run from her. Of course not. Why should it? It defeated her so easily last time, just a touch, just a gentle caress that invaded her mind, her soul, her being, and she will make him pay for that.

Sword held tight in her right hand, she stalks toward the monster. She will make him pay very dearly for that.

Daiki's gone, the kaijin that he's fighting having slipped down another side street. That's all right, though. She doesn't need him or Tsukasa to do what she needs to do right now. Just herself, just the power growing and surging within her, and she's going to hurt this man. She's going to tear this man apart, rend him limb from limb and dance in his blood, and it will still not be payment enough for what he did to her.

What he did to _Yuusuke_, and the cry that tears itself from her throat is barely human as she charges him.

The kaijin doesn't move until the last second, sinking into the blackness at his feet. Her sword cleaves the air where he stood, and she howls in frustration.

"I don't want to fight with you, girl." The kaijin's voice comes from behind her, and she whirls. "Or the boy. I would like to learn from you. Study you—"

She laughs as she charges, a sound of pure glee. He could study all he wanted, but this mortal would never be able to understand them. Is too wrapped up in his own plans, his own determination to even attempt to touch a fraction of what they are. And there really isn't time for him to learn, since she will kill him soon and dance upon his corpse.

He dodges again, though he does it with great dignity. Sliding through the darkness that he commands, the terror that he can shape as a weapon, but now that she knows it she can follow it. Watch his swift dash, moving at the speed of dark, and be ready to face him when he rises again.

He's startled, though it only shows as a slight pulling back before he braces himself, arms crossed in front of his chest. He styles himself a god of the mind, and it shows in his form, in his stance. Perhaps he even _is_ touching a god, tapping the power inherent in the earth and in the terror that dogs the lives of all creatures.

But at his core he is still human, a tortured, torturing human, and she laughs again as she runs the edge of her sword along her cheek.

"I'd rather not destroy your mind if I don't have to, child." His deep voice is almost gentle as he holds a hand out to her. "There is a great deal I could stand to learn from you, and a great deal that I could offer. Come with me. Talk with me. We—"

She stalks toward him, slowly, deliberately. With a sigh, he throws the inky darkness of Terror's power at her.

Power she steps through without pausing. It writhes around her ankles, starts to climb up at his command and then falls back. Reaching out with her left hand, she calls a dark column up, caressing it. Destruction. Death. Terror. These are her elements, the things she dances in with reckless abandon, and it is only a fool who would attempt to turn them against her.

"No!" Kenzaki's voice, though how he came to be here she doesn't know.

She pauses, considering, before turning toward the sound.

"No…" He's barely standing, the man with the bright green blood, and despair beats from him like a physical wave. "Please. No."

Not something worth noting, and she turns back to Terror in time to meet the monster that he unleashes on her. A snake-demon, a young thing, and she howls for joy as her sword cleaves through it. The first strike bites deep into its neck, and it squeals as it spins away, loops back toward her at its master's command. The second strike goes between its eyes, and it falls, writhes at her feet, attempts to lash at her with its tail. That's easily taken care of, though, her sword slicing through the offending appendage, sending it flying back toward its master. Blood sprays against her, warm, but separated from her skin by the armor.

She doesn't like that. She shouldn't have anything separating her from the feel of the battlefield, with all its glorious textures. The liquid spray of blood, the harsh texture of mud, gravel, dirt, the sharp cut of metal and bone, all should touch her as she moves through them. Hooking her fingers around the trembling bat that creates her armor, she gently pulls the tiny creature loose.

Spinning, she flings the small thing away, toward the human soul in the demon's body. He'll care for it, she's certain. Finishing the turn, she forges a new sword from the darkness still surrounding her and cleaves the snake's head from its body, relishing the feel of blood spraying into the air, splattering her clothes. An easy jump places her on top of the cooling body, and she stalks along it toward the kaijin that started this all.

"Yuusuke is ours." Blood runs down her face, trickles into her mouth, urged on by a gentle patter of rain. It's been far too long since she did something like this. Danced on the battlefield, relishing her power flowing free, and she twirls for her victim, spins the sword between her hands as only she can. "For the part you played in taking him, you will die."

"Kadoya Tsukasa!" Kenzaki's voice roars above everything else. "_Tsukasa!_"

Turning back to the man, she stares at him quizzically. The one he's calling isn't here. Is perhaps two blocks away, engaged in his own battle, and she'll join him soon, dance in the fire with him. But she needs to finish this first.

The kaijin uses the distraction to try to run, to use the darkness to transport him somewhere away from her. That simply isn't allowed. Caressing the darkness with her foot, she takes two waltzing steps toward him and freezes the blackness around his legs, holding him in place.

He stares at her, confused but not scared yet. "This isn't the type of person you are. Not the type of skills you're supposed to have. What's happening to you?"

Laughing, she pulls back her sword, lining up the strike. There's no need to talk to him more, and certainly nothing worth saying.

"No." Kenzaki's arms wrap around her, twist her back a handful of steps until he can put himself between her and her prey. "No. You're not like this, Hikari Natsumi. You're not, and if Tsukasa can't even do this job right then I'll damn well do it for him."

"Get out of the way, Blade." She could hurt him, badly, in a variety of ways. He seems to be barely staying on his feet as it is. But she helped save him, and she doesn't _want_ to hurt him. There's no reason to, the bloodlust of battle not having completely claimed her yet.

"You're a Rider. You're not supposed to do things like this." Green blood covers his bare back, has trickled around to run over his chest and stomach.

What would his blood taste like, this kaijin-human creation? This Joker, a life sprung fully formed from fourteen other species. Her tongue flicks out to the corner of her mouth, lapping at the remaining blood there. "I'm not a Rider right now. No armor, no belt. So get—"

"It doesn't _matter_ what you look like." Taking a step toward her, he sways, blinks, finds his balance again. His kaijin form flickers around him before being shoved behind the human façade once more. "You're a Rider, just like me. Your world's Rider, and we don't kill like this. We don't enjoy it. We don't torment our victims. You _know_ that. So what are you doing right now?"

She's taking vengeance for what was done to one of hers. To Yuusuke, who always stands by them, tries to protect them, to protect _everyone_, and is always, always hurt for it. Is twisted, time and again, into something that is his antithesis, that claws at and hollows out all that he is meant to be. The complement to her and her lover, the light to their darkness, and she will not tolerate what was done to him.

What was done to _her_, using her against him, and her sword is at Kenzaki's throat, drawing a thin line of inhuman blood. He doesn't move, though. Just stares at her, and the despair that cloaked him before is gone, wiped away, filled in with quiet determination and undying faith.

He trusts her. Just as Yuusuke does, just as Tsukasa does, and the sword starts trembling in her hand.

What _is _she doing? _How_ is she doing it?

The sword wavers, the essence of Terror used to create it slithering out of her control.

The kaijin moves quickly, striking as soon as her grip weakens. Kenzaki's faster, though, grabbing her and throwing both of them out of the circle of Terror's power. Clambering to her feet, she looks around frantically for Kivala. The bat hesitates only a fraction of a second before fluttering down to her.

Kenzaki kneels at her feet as she transforms, coughing green blood all over the street. When the fit finally passes he slumps fully to the ground, arms wrapped around his chest, eyes barely open.

That's all right, though. He saved her, called her back to herself, and she'll both protect him and keep that from being in vain.

Terror strides toward her, stopping several feet away. "What are you, girl?"

"Hikari Natsumi. Kamen Rider Kivala." Her hand clenches hard around her sword. "The one who's going to stop you. Remember that."

"I'm unlikely to forget you." Terror's tone is amused as he circles around her, keeping the same distance between them. "But you're hardly a Kamen Rider. At least, not at your most interesting. I think this is one experiment I'd like to see play out further before taking action."

The darkness that he commands wraps around him, spirits him away. She could have stopped it, maybe, jumped into the blackness with him, but she's afraid. Not of the darkness and the despair anymore, but of the thing inside her that answers to it, so she lets him go.

Kenzaki smiles tiredly at her as she kneels down by his side, Kivala's armor falling away. "Good job, Natsumi. Really good job."

"Thank you." Taking his hand, she pulls him to his feet, slipping his arm around her shoulders and supporting him. "For… for helping me."

"I didn't do much." He limps, leaning hard against her. The bare skin of his chest and back is cool, smeared with both his green blood and the monster's purple blood that's coating her. The rain that's falling from the sky in unsteady sheets will help clean him off, though, and he's healing incredibly quickly. "Do you know where Tsukasa is?"

"N… yes." Yes, though there's no way she should. She and Daiki had beaten him out of the house, and she'd been distracted by Terror before really getting a chance to see where the Grongi and Tsukasa were heading.

More than his location, she knows some of what he's thinking. Knows that fire is spilling out from him, raging against the water that one of the kaijin wields, and he's barely Tsukasa anymore.

Slipping her arm out from under Kenzaki, she sprints toward the sounds of thunder. There's no time to explain to him what's going on, and nothing he could do even if she did.

The only one who can reach Tsukasa—the thing inside Tsukasa—the one who can dance in the fire with him and calm the frenzy, is her.

XXX

"Tsukasa!"

The man isn't paying any attention to him. Turning in a slow circle, Decade surveys the three dopants facing him. Fire crawls across his armor, flickers and slithers along the planes of his Rider form in red tongues, orange flares, fireflies of blue. He seems completely unperturbed by it, too, just as he's completely undisturbed by the fact that he's surrounded by three fairly powerful opponents. One of whom should really be dead, since that was the usual outcome of shattering into many pieces, but given who he's fighting alongside Kaitou supposes he shouldn't be so hung up on that.

"Let go." The Grongi struggles against his hold, kicking impotently.

"Let's see. If I let you go, are you going to just stand here?"

The kaijin's snarl throws drops of red blood onto Diend's blue armor. Kaitou stares at it unhappily until the rain washes it away.

"Since you're insisting on trying to attack us, I'm going to have to keep you here." Kaitou tightens his hold on the Grongi's arms, ensuring that the man can't slip loose. "Sorry."

The Grongi's next words are lost in the sound of swords clashing and bits of buildings blowing up as Tsukasa and the three kaijin close again. Tsukasa doesn't bother changing forms, using his right hand for sword work and directing the fire that's surrounding him to attack with his left.

_Everything_ about his fighting style's all wrong. Usually Tsukasa moves economically, almost lazily, using whatever form happens to be on the top of his deck rather than what will give him the best tactical advantage.

Now, though, Tsukasa moves with a casual grace, seeming almost to be hindered by the armor. It's a dance, practically, a deadly dance where he is fast, elegant, and completely in control despite the fact that his partners are all determined to kill him and theoretically have the power needed to do so.

"Please." The Grongi continues to struggle, more wildly now but with even less strength. "That's my wife."

Kaitou eyes the two female kaijin. "I'm sorry for you."

Another snarl, another mouthful of blood splattering against Diend as he tries to hold the thrashing kaijin still, and Kaitou sighs in frustration. "I'm sorry for you because your wife is evidently working with the man who beat the crap out of you."

That stops the Grongi's struggling, and it's only the minute trembling of the man's exhausted muscles that lets Kaitou know he hasn't passed out. "She's not… it's not…"

"We'll talk about it later. Look, we just want to get you away from them. Come with us, let us ask you some Grongi things, and then if you really want you can go find your… wife again. You're not in any shape to fight all five of us right now, anyway. Now, if I let you go, promise to control yourself and not attack anyone?"

"Control…?" The word stumbles off the Grongi's tongue as though he's never heard it before, but after a few seconds he straightens, nodding. "Yes. For now, I can control myself. Why are you staying with me, though? Why not render me unconscious and help your companion?"

Because his companion isn't someone he can help right now. Because there's an imprint of Decade's hand burned into the back of Diend, charring through deep enough to burn Kaitou's skin. It hadn't been intentional, he's certain—had actually been meant to help him, a shove to send them both clear of one of the floating kaijin's energy blasts. Grongi and monsters and Yuusuke being temporarily evil he can deal with. Tsukasa burning everything around him, Tsukasa barely being Tsukasa and unintentionally hurting him… he can't.

All he says to the Grongi is, "You sound pretty sophisticated when you're not spitting blood all over me."

Before the Grongi can respond two objects clatter to the ground at his feet.

RideBooker and DecaDriver. Kaitou stares at them, not wanting to look up, not wanting to try to figure out what to do next.

"Kaitou Daiki." It's Tsukasa's voice. It _looks_ like Tsukasa, like a gorgeous, perfect, totally-on-fire-and-sans-shirt Tsukasa. Two swords made of flame curl up from his hands, and he smiles as he turns back to the fight. "Take care of those for me."

He was fast before; now he seems to move like the wind, like a wildfire pushed ever onward. Gravity doesn't seem to be a problem for him, either, as he sprints up the side of a building, dances off a scrap of fog to bury one of his swords in the floating kaijin's side. She falls with a scream of agony, kaijin form fading to that of a young woman who glares murder at Tsukasa before passing out. The other female kaijin's form flickers and falls as she runs to the fallen one's side, leaving Tsukasa and the white monstrosity that shoots lightning bolts to face each other.

"You're quite the interesting specimen, boy." The kaijin raises one hand, and the rain that's been pelting them steadily increases in intensity. "But fire has this bad tendency of burning out quickly."

"Not this fire." Tsukasa's smile is beatific as he rubs the dried, charred blood from his sword off on his pants. "You've no idea what you're playing with, Isaka."

They close like forces of nature, but it's quickly obvious who's going to win. Isaka wields the elements well, but Tsukasa commands the fire surrounding him as though it were his skin, and for all the grace that fills this new fighting style of his it's deadly dangerous.

It's when Isaka starts trying to run that everything really goes wrong, though. Tsukasa _toys_ with him, herding him first one way and then another, giving him a small nick here, a thin slice there, occasionally tossing him into buildings, and the kaijin doesn't stand a chance. Is going to die slowly, a mouse toyed with by a cat, and Tsukasa isn't supposed to _smile_ like that while doing something like this. Even as DaiShocker's great leader he didn't—

"Stop him." The Grongi's fists are clenched at his side, his face twisted in disdain and horror. "Stop him or I will."

"I can't… how am I supposed to…"

Natsumi doesn't look at them as she sprints past. Doesn't shout or say anything, just throws herself onto Tsukasa, and Kaitou finds himself reaching for her too late to do anything at all.

She doesn't burn, though. The fire spreads out to her, caresses her, flows from her hair, her skin, her clothes, and she exhales a soft trail of sparks before smiling. "Don't, love."

"He's one of them." Tsukasa's arms go around her, pull her tight against him, but his eyes are fixed on the kaijin. "He helped… he gave them ideas. Suggestions on how best to break him. What type of people to hurt, what memories to force on him, what the probable effects of Terror would be. Oath breaker. Murderer. Torturer."

The kaijin crawls away from them, dragging a broken leg behind it, and Tsukasa's smile grows.

"No." Natsumi's hands go to either side of his face, force him to look at her. "No. That isn't our role. These avatars are still tainted, still far too human, and thus we become tools of vengeance. But we're more than that. Better than that, and so are these avatars. We will not be monsters, no matter what _he_ has planned. You had a chance to dance a bit of your tandava, love. Care to dance some of the lasya with me?"

She steps away from him, her hands sliding down until they hold his. His eyes flick from the kaijin crawling slowly away to Natsumi, and his expression softens. The smile that steals over his face is filled to overflowing with love, devotion, simple joy, so very different from the smile that was there not a minute before, and he allows Natsumi to lead him away.

He'd thought Tsukasa was graceful when dancing alone. He was wrong. Watching Tsukasa spin with Natsumi, he understands what grace personified truly means. Every action is fraught with meaning, with emotion, and those emotions spill out of the dance, out of the dancers, infecting everything around them.

Kaitou isn't sure how long they watch the two of them. Seconds, minutes, hours, hell, he might believe it if someone told him it had been days. The thunderstorm's over as Natsumi and Tsukasa finally come to a stop, moonlight spilling across the urban landscape as the last flickers of fire fall from their hair to die out on the cracked and shattered pavement of the battleground. The kaijin are gone; the Grongi sits at Kaitou's side, in his human form finally, though the shredded, bloody business suit doesn't go with the emotion on his face or the tears in his eyes.

It's Kenzaki who goes to the two of them, limping from the shadows to stand behind Natsumi and gently pull her free of Tsukasa's grasp. Natsumi and Tsukasa fight him, at first, but once she's free of Tsukasa's hands Natsumi shakes her head and retreats another half dozen steps.

She's the one who comes over to Kaitou first, and he watches her warily. Her smile is still her own, though, as she takes his hand. "Drop the armor, Daiki. Please."

His voice is surprisingly steady as he speaks, and he's glad he can manage that. "What do I get if I do?"

"The best treasure in the world." The lilting, teasing note to her voice doesn't match the tears or the fears in her eyes. "Please, Daiki…"

As soon as the armor's off she hugs him, just like he thought she would, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

"Tell me I'm human." It's the softest whisper, spoken directly into his ear. "Please, Daiki, tell me I'm human."

"You're human. You're Hikari Natsumi, and you're human." They're both lies, he thinks, and he hates lies. There are really only three people in the multiverse that he'd lie for, and she's damn lucky she's one of them. One of his treasures, and he tightens his arms around her. He doesn't give up his treasures without a fight. "You're Hikari Natsumi. You're human."

Her breath shivers out in a sigh of relief, and he can feel her muscles relax as she nods. "Right." Pulling back, she smiles at him. There's nothing of the fire or the dance in that smile anymore. "Thanks."

"No problem. Though you owe me a treasure now."

"A hug from a friend's the best treasure anyone can get, right?"

He frowns at her, because that's entirely untrue. "I'd really prefer some interesting piece of tech. At least an expensive jewel."

"I could give you pepper again."

Tsukasa laughs and smirks, watching the two of them from behind Kenzaki. Keeping a safe buffer zone between himself and Natsumi again, but Kaitou's very determined not to think about that right now.

Scowling harder, the thief crosses his arms in front of his chest. "What, Tsukasa? Do you need a hug, too?"

"No." Striding around to Kenzaki's other side, Tsukasa surveys their small group, including the Grongi who's now lying flat on the ground.

Reaching out with his foot, Kaitou gingerly nudges the Grongi. The man blearily opens his eyes, staring up at him for a moment. He tries to rise, gets partway to his feet and collapses back to the ground. This time he doesn't move at all when nudged. Turning back to Tsukasa, Kaitou sighs. "Let me guess. We're taking this one home, too? If that's the case, you can carry him."

Kenzaki's head jerks up, eyes scanning the horizon. "We need to go soon. Sirens."

"Let's go, then." Tsukasa starts walking away, fingers hooked in the pockets of his black jeans. How he managed to burn his shirt and not his pants Kaitou's not certain, and he's really not curious enough to ask. Looking back over his shoulder, Tsukasa nods at the Grongi. "Bring our guest, Kaitou."

"Like hell." Stepping over the prone Grongi, Kaitou stalks after the other man. "Your guest, you carry him."

Natsumi grabs them both by an arm. She barely flinches when her hand touches Tsukasa's bare skin—if he hadn't been watching for it, Kaitou might have missed it. "You'll both carry him. Now. You know what'll happen if you don't. Kenzaki, don't even try it. We've had enough injuries for one day."

Stepping away from the prone man with a sheepish grin, Kenzaki straightens slowly. "All right. Quick, though. We've got a lot to talk about, and given… everything, I'm afraid we might not have much time."

"Thanks for killing the mood." Kaitou scowls at the man as he helps Tsukasa lift the prone Grongi.

He wouldn't be so annoyed with the kaijin if he weren't afraid that Kenzaki's right.


	11. Part Ten: Things Fall Apart

**Disclaimer:** None of the universes that appear in this work belong to me.

**Author's Note:** There are massive spoilers for Blade and Decade in this chapter, and mentions of things from pretty much every Heisei Rider series (nothing that'll tell too much about the others, I don't think, but fair warning). There is also a fair amount of gore, and a lot of playing with theology.

_Part Ten: Things Fall Apart_

"So." Tsukasa comes into the studio and sits at the table with his usual flourish. He's in fresh black pants now and a light pink, long-sleeved shirt. Crossing his arms over his chest, he fixes his gaze on Kenzaki. "Tell us what's going on."

Kenzaki studies his hands, clasped together on top of the table. He's also fully dressed again, in one of Natsumi's grandfather's shirts and a spare pair of Tsukasa's pants. For the first time since he joined them there's no evidence of his inhuman blood showing. "What do you know so far?"

"Yuusuke was tricked into becoming the Ultimate Darkness. He's changing people like our friend upstairs into Grongi. When we tried to find Yuusuke, he sent us to you." Tsukasa speaks to a point just to the left of Kenzaki, though his tone is very matter-of-fact. "And whatever you did to us, to Natsumi and I during the Rider War, is going to destroy us."

"No!" Kenzaki's head snaps up, hands clenching into fists. "It wasn't our fault. It's _not_ our fault. And it doesn't have to turn out that way."

"Isn't your fault?" Tsukasa stands, eyes sliding over to meet Kenzaki's. He moves slowly, stalking around the table toward the other man. "Who was it that forced me to become the Destroyer of Worlds, Kenzaki? Who hounded me, chased me, turned my friends against me?"

"I didn't—"

"Tried to turn _Yuusuke_ against me. Was he really willing to help me, when my survival would mean the end of his world? Better he just stood back and did nothing. Better he be paralyzed by fear and doubt than act on behalf of a friend. So self-righteous, so determined, trying to save the universe from the human monster." Mouth curled in a disdainful snarl, Tsukasa shoves the other man.

"_You did it on purpose!_" Kenzaki surges to his feet, hands shaking, curling towards Tsukasa before he pulls back. "You're human, to your core, and you knew what was going to happen. Every world you walked through would be dragged into the chaos and destroyed, and you didn't care. You still kept traveling. As long as there was something there for you to rule over in the end, _you didn't care_."

"That's not true." Shaking his head, Tsukasa prowls around the other man. "I didn't know that the worlds would die because I visited them. How could I? I had barely seen a decade's worth of life when I started traveling."

"You worked for DaiShocker. Purposefully. With no qualms or hesitation." Kenzaki's knuckles are white, his nails undoubtedly digging into the skin of his palms. "Traveled for them, with the intent of conquering every world you visited. You intended to kill us all so that you could have your little empire."

"Yes." Tsukasa stops, head tilting back, and grief flashes across his face. "I did. I was wrong, then. But the way you went about forcing me into the War was wrong, as well. I wasn't the boy you hated anymore."

"I didn't—"

"But I suppose you couldn't help it." Tsukasa starts walking again, completing his slow circle back to his seat. His tone changes as he sits down, becomes more contemplative, the words slower to come. "You were so lonely. Tachibana hadn't chased you for over three years. Not since the time he sat and cried for nearly an hour, and you were so close. So close. All you had to do was reach out, trust your instincts, and you could go home. But you were still scared of the beast inside you, uncertain of yourself. But now Hajime wasn't even looking for you anymore, turned his thoughts to you less and less. Kotarou's book was already being forgotten, the latest craze, every detail already picked apart and analyzed to death. Your existence doubted, or, worse, the ones who concluded that you and Garren were responsible for all the deaths. How many human lives to save one monster? And you still couldn't go home, because Hajime was there and because what would you say? They had obviously moved on by now. And they left you behind as a lonely, terrified monster that would live forever. Who wouldn't even get to see those he loved grow old, because you couldn't trust yourself enough to be near them."

"Shut up." The words are the barest whisper. Kenzaki's whole body is shaking, his face pale. "You don't know anything."

"I do." Tsukasa studies the ceiling as he speaks. "I know you, Kenzaki. You were so ecstatic when you found the other Riders. When they reached out to you and asked you to be a hero again… Wataru handing you Blade's belt, giving you a _purpose_ again, and comrades. Friends."

"That's not why. We did what we had to do. We wouldn't—"

"Of course you only did what you had to." Tsukasa's arms wrap around his chest, hold himself tight. "For the universe to live, one man had to die. For your new friends to survive, for you not to be alone and hiding all the time, Kadoya Tsukasa had to be sacrificed. If you were in my place, you would have killed yourself a long time ago, when you first realized what the problem was."

Kenzaki doesn't say anything, seemingly frozen in place.

"And I understand. At least get the gist of it. Who was it that kept confronting me? Pushing me to finish what needed to be done? Who hated me the most, or pitied me the most, or a twisted, painful combination of the two? Kurenai Wataru and Kenzaki Kazuma. The two Riders who are also monsters, who have to suppress an inherent part of their nature every day of their very long lives, because they won't hurt people. And here I am, a nominally normal human, deciding to be a monster. It hurt so much, made you so angry…"

"How… how the hell do you know any of that?" Sitting back down with a quiet sigh, Kenzaki very gently places his hands palms-down on the table. "Not that it's all true, but…"

"But enough of it is." Tsukasa smiles, though it's a tired expression. "Because you're his, Kenzaki, at least in part. The monster and the wise man; the temper and the unbounded love. And you people fed me to him, made me his avatar completely. What he would know, I can know."

"That's great." Kaitou pulls his hand out from inside his jacket, letting his finger fall from Diend's trigger. Despite initial appearances, they apparently _aren't_ going to have another Rider brawl in the middle of the photo studio. "Care explaining it to those of us who have no idea what the hell any of that meant?"

"During the Rider War, they made me Shiva." Crossing his legs with a flourish, Tsukasa reaches out to grab a cookie from the arrangement in the center of the table, completely ruining the effect. "The one who brings destruction, and thus creation. Apparently it stuck."

"No." Kenzaki shakes his head. "It wasn't our doing… not like you're thinking. The potential was already there. How many children do you know who can walk between worlds? Sometimes… sometimes godlings are born into the worlds. Avatars, you could say. Children who can tap into fundamental forces in the universe, shape things, create things in ways that normal people couldn't. It… very rarely goes well, for them or for those they love. You can ask Kido Shinji what happened to the ones he knew in his world, though if you do please be… kind about the time you choose."

"So you think I was one of those godlings?" Holding up the plate of cookies, Tsukasa offers one to Kenzaki, then to Natsumi, and finally, almost grudgingly, to Kaitou.

Kaitou takes one, anyway. No use spiting Tsukasa in a way that's only going to hurt himself.

"That's what we think." Kenzaki leans back in his seat. "Whatever you were trying to do, when you started manifesting your power, it resulted in a… it started twisting the worlds. Drawing every one that you touched closer and closer together. Creating bridges between them, but those bridges almost immediately started contracting, drawing the worlds after you. It would have destroyed everything."

"I brought back a flower for her, you know." Tsukasa studies his cookie as though the chocolate chips can tell him the secrets of the universe. "Before I got lost, I brought back a flower for my sister, so she could see how wonderful the worlds she touched were. I always planned on showing the worlds to her, one day. Making it so she wasn't afraid. Each time I changed worlds, I'd try to remember exactly what the last one was like. What beauties were there. What terrors. So I could give them to her, when I finally got home."

Silence reigns, and Kenzaki looks absolutely miserable when he finally continues. "Whatever you _planned_ to do, you ended up working for DaiShocker instead."

"They found me. Brought me home. Let me be lord, called me Great Leader, gave me so many new toys to play with…" Tsukasa grins, a sly, whimsical expression. "You were twelve once, weren't you, Kenzaki?"

"I was." Hands clenched into fists again, Kenzaki's tone is as pointedly calm as any Kaitou's ever heard. "I was in an orphanage because I'd watched my parents burn to death and couldn't do anything to stop it. I already knew I wanted to keep other people from suffering like I was."

"Touche." Tsukasa inclines his head, just slightly, a little bow to Kenzaki. "You're a better man than me. I suspect most people probably are, though I like to think I've learned. Though I think I'm going to lose that, soon."

"Don't say that!" Leaning forward, Kenzaki glares first at Tsukasa and then at Natsumi. "Don't think it, either of you. The second you start giving in to it, the second you start _accepting_ it… that's when you'll really start losing yourself."

"I played the part of a god tonight, Kazuma." Tsukasa settles back into his seat with a slight shrug. "And I did it well. I command fire. I think there's more of him than—"

"No." Natsumi's hand grabs Tsukasa's in a fierce, desperate grip. "You're still Kadoya Tsukasa. I'm still Hikari Natsumi. We're still human, and we're going to stay that way. We're going to bring Yuusuke back to us, and we're going to stay human. Understand?"

"Ah." As his fingers tighten briefly around Natsumi's, Tsukasa smiles. Kaitou's not sure he likes the look of the smile, though. Too much sorrow, not enough determination. "I understand."

"Well, _I_ still don't understand." Kicking Tsukasa's leg under the table makes Kaitou feel slightly better; so does dodging the retaliatory strike. "Who's Shiva? What's this got to do with Natsumi? And how does any of this connect back to Yuusuke?"

"Live a sheltered life, don't you, Daiki?" Tsukasa's smirk is infuriating as he leans back, arms going behind his head.

Kaitou would never admit that seeing the smirk makes him feel better. Just like he'd never admit that he doesn't know the first thing about most religions, the strange concepts having been banned for several generations on his world.

"Shiva's one of the primary Hindu gods." It's Kenzaki who starts answering the question. "He's—"

"The Destroyer. The Dancer. Dancing worlds out of existence." Tsukasa doesn't look at Kenzaki as he makes his additions.

"That's just a part of what he is." Kenzaki manages to mix both annoyance and desperation in his tone. "He's the transformer. The force of change in the universe, depending on who you ask. He helps people, banishing ignorance, allowing growth in the world and the individual."

"I think I know him better than you, thanks." Stretching forward, Tsukasa reaches for another cookie. "We're destroyers. The Destroyer of Worlds."

Natsumi slams her hand down on top of Tsukasa's, causing the cookie to explode in a shower of crumbs. Pulling back with a snarled invective, Tsukasa cradles his wrist and glares at her.

She simply crosses her arms over her chest and glares right back. "No more self-pity. You're not a monster. You're not a destroyer. And you're damned well not Shiva, either."

"_Care to dance some of the lasya with me, love?_" Tsukasa hits the inflections perectly, and Kaitou can't help but shiver.

Natsumi pales, hand rising as though she means to strike him. Studying her palm, she shakes her head, setting her hand back down with a trembling sigh. "I'm not playing games with you, Tsukasa. And I don't care if you're scared. Stop picking fights. We'll get through this."

"I…" Tsukasa pulls his injured limb in close to his chest. "I'm not scared."

"Oh?" Her smile is both tender and exasperated. "Because I am. I'm terrified, but I'm going to do the best that I can. She… I… _she_ said it. We're too human. It twists the power. Makes it into something simpler than it's supposed to be, and thus more dangerous. Easier to abuse. But we don't _want_ to be monsters, so we won't be. That's what being a Rider—that's what being _human_—is all about."

"Right." Placing both hands flat on the table, Kaitou looks at each of the other three in turn and speaks as slowly as he can. "Can we get this explanation to be a bit more linear? Because so far all I'm getting is Tsukasa may or may not be Shiva, who may or may not be a force of destruction, and it may or may not be Kenzaki's fault."

"In little words for you, Kaitou." Tsukasa points at himself. "Tsukasa. Shiva. The Destroyer. Natsumi. Parvati. Shiva's wife. The one who can tame him and stop his destruction."

"And Kali." Hunching down, Natsumi fiddles with her skirt hem. "Parvati's… dark form. Or… related to her. The destructive, threatening feminine force, I guess you could say. Shiva stops her bloodlust by throwing himself under her feet, shocking her back to her senses."

Tsukasa shakes his head. "I don't think that's going to happen, Natsumikan. You'll just have to have better control than that."

"Same to you." Giving his shoulder a shove, she grins. "We'll both have perfect control."

"All right." Kaitou kicks Tsukasa under the table again, just for good measure. He doesn't wince when Tsukasa's answering kick connects. "So you guys _are_ gods, or are channeling gods? And how is this Kenzaki's fault?"

"Kenzaki would like to point out, once again, that it is not his fault." The kaijin-Rider raises his hand as he speaks. "We didn't make you a focal point; we just… helped push your story into one that the universe knew. One that could have a happy ending."

Tsukasa raises an eyebrow at Kenzaki. "A happy ending where I died."

"A happy ending where your friends lived and you had a chance to live, as well." Kenzaki sighs. "It wasn't an easy choice, Tsukasa. It wasn't something we wanted to do. But you didn't give us any choice. _You_ attacked _us_ first, remember. You almost killed Godai."

Tsukasa's face goes blank at the name, eyes dilating. "Godai… Yuusuke."

"Yeah." Kenzaki speaks slowly, leaning forward. "You didn't remember?"

"No." Tsukasa whispers the word.

Natsumi's hand inches forward, moving to cover Tsukasa's. His fingers curl around hers in a death grip.

Kaitou just sighs. _This_ is why he doesn't work with people. Getting explanations out of them takes way more time and patience than he has. "Who's Godai Yuusuke?"

"Kuuga." Natsumi whispers the word. "He was another world's Kuuga, wasn't he?"

"Yes." Tsukasa nods, a jerky movement. "He was the most dangerous of them. I thought I should get rid of him first. It didn't… go well."

"To put it mildly," Kenzaki says. "He's the one who gave you amnesia. I guess it would make sense it's the last bit to come back."

Tsukasa finally looks at Kenzaki again, shaking off the effects of whatever memory he'd been surprised by. "Godai agreed to your plan?"

"No. Godai hated our plan. But it was already in action by the time he was capable of doing anything about it, and Godai… he wouldn't hurt us." Kenzaki's smile twists into a bitter grimace. "Be disappointed in us, but not hurt us. Especially when he couldn't think of anything else to do. He's the one who filled Onodera in afterwards, though, and sent him to help bring you back."

Kaitou considers having two of Yuusuke in one place before shaking his head. He's definitely not ready for something like that. "Right. Back on track, please. Tsukasa is channeling Shiva's energy. Natsumi is channeling Parvati's energy. And Yuusuke?"

Shaking his head, Kenzaki takes a drink of water before continuing. "Yuusuke wasn't part of the initial story. He's a victim of the Man in Black. Him, and everyone else that was involved in the Rider War. Have you three seen him yet?"

All of them shake their heads.

"Good. Then there might still be time." Kenzaki leans forward, voice dropping lower, talking faster. "We don't know who he is, what he is, but he's not human. He's been attacking Riders, attacking Rider worlds. We lost contact with Shouichi first. When Hibiki went to see what was wrong, Shouichi's world had just… gone insane. Agitos were being captured, tortured, murdered, experimented on. Entire families had been wiped out. There was so much fear, so much paranoia, and it came on so suddenly. Too suddenly. We should have seen what was happening, but we thought it was just people being… well, being the worst that people can be. They'd been talking about rounding up Agitos in his world since we first met Shouichi. The rest of us started organizing missions, sending help. Shouichi and Ashihara wouldn't leave, were determined they could still save their world, but we evacuated others. Children with Agito potential, elders, anyone who couldn't or wouldn't fight for some reason…"

Kenzaki shudders, a deep, convulsive movement, and stands up to start pacing. "We were horrified, but we were also proud of ourselves. We were being useful. Being heroes. Saving people who otherwise would have died, giving them relatively safe new homes to go to. Something _good_ had come from Decade's story, after all, if we could help each other like this now.

"But then Kido stopped coming to help. When I went to his world, to see what was happening… the Rider War in the Mirror World was over. He was supposed to be free of it. But it had started again, and he didn't remember me. Akiyama tried to kill me. We started investigating that, too—we had the resources. We had people who were really good at organizing the resources, too. Hibiki's people are amazing. If every Rider had the type of organization that his do…

"He stopped showing up next. More Makamou than ever were appearing in his world, with new abilities. And because that wasn't enough, couldn't come close to breaking Takeshi, someone started bombing their facilities. Killing support staff, murdering and maiming Oni where they were supposed to be safest. Why? Because they were consorting with devils and demons. Because someone was telling people the Oni and those who supported them were evil, were the cause of the makamou appearing. People are so easy to confuse, to scare, to make afraid of things that are different from them.

"Everything escalated from there. The Orphenoch started open rebellion in Takumi's world; the human response was devastating, striking out at anyone who was Orphenoch no matter what their involvement. Wataru… Wataru killed a man with his Fangire powers. By accident, after… after more than enough provocation, but they videotaped it. They videotaped it and played it over and over again, on the news everywhere, hideous proof of the monsters and killers among us. And he was starting to believe them."

Kenzaki starts crying. He swipes ineffectually at the tears running down his face before sniffling and continuing on. "We were still trying. Everything was going to hell everywhere, but we were still trying to help each other. We started losing even the minimal contact we'd had with people, though. We'd go to their world, use the bridges, but we wouldn't be able to find each other. Would be met with resistance as soon as we stepped between worlds. One by one, world by world. And then… mine."

He stops moving entirely. Standing in the middle of the living room, the kaijin-Rider hybrid shakes and cries silently.

Natsumi goes to him, smoothes his dark hair away from his eyes and wraps her arms around him. Without hesitation Kenzaki hugs her back, burying his head on her shoulder.

Tsukasa's eyes narrow as he watches Natsumi comfort the other Rider. He tries to rise and move toward them, but it's easy enough to trip him. Kaitou shakes his head, just slightly, as he helps Tsukasa sit back in his seat.

Growling low in his throat, Tsukasa nods. He won't interfere right now, doesn't _need_ to interfere right now, but it's obvious that he's still not happy about the situation. Kaitou's going to have the bruises to _show_ how unhappy Tsukasa is, the man's fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulder with almost inhuman strength.

"I don't know where he gathered them from." Kenzaki's voice is rough, his breathing labored. "They said… they said they were humanity's defenders. That they were after the monsters that were trying to infiltrate humanity, and those who would betray their own species and associate with the monsters. Everyone thought they were crazy, just this fringe group of psychotics… they made me angry, but I didn't pay them much mind. Not at first. Not for weeks, because they weren't important compared to what was happening in the other worlds.

"They captured him and held him for three days. Tortured him to try to get a confession out of him, but he didn't give them one. They posted it all on-line when they were done. They… called it a trial. A mockery of justice. He looked… so sad. Just so damn sad as they led him to the gallows, and read out their… _sentence._ For failing to kill Joker; for siding with Joker and thus endangering all life on Earth… they said he was guilty of murder. That the blood of every human who died during the Roach invasion was on his hands. They killed him. And I watched it, but I couldn't. Do. Anything."

Kenzaki throws back his head and howls, a sound of pure grief that starts human and ends in a haunting, inhuman wail as his kaijin form rises to the surface. Natsumi's arms stay around him, holding the kaijin tightly against her. Eventually Kenzaki's cry fades and his knees buckle, though Natsumi lowers them gently to the ground.

Kenzaki's voice is grittier in his kaijin form, harder to understand. Given the man's propensity for slurring words, that makes him almost impossible to comprehend, and both Kaitou and Tsukasa move closer as he starts talking again.

"I watched with my co-workers as the news-stations showed the live Internet stream. That was a mistake. I wasn't… ready to see something like that. To watch Tachibana die. I lost control, and when they saw my Joker form… they ran. Running from Joker is a bad thing to do. I don't think I killed anyone, but I… hurt some people." Kenzaki's eyes squeeze tightly shut, masking the most human feature about him, and Kaitou finds his gaze focused on Joker's too-prominent teeth. Teeth that are very close to Natsumi's neck, and he snakes out a hand to grab Tsukasa before the man can do something stupid.

"You didn't mean to, Kenzaki." Natsumi's voice is rough, too, and there are tears in her eyes. "You tried not to. It wasn't your fault."

"I should have done better. If I can punch God and come out on top, I should have been able to do better." Kenzaki draws in a shuddering breath and, with it, pulls his human form around him again. "The police captured me—or I let myself be captured. But they didn't keep me. They gave me to _them_. Gave me to the Man in Black. He smiled at me, so pleased with the situation, and asked what I thought of his work. Asked which world was the best. Asked what should be done to hurt Godai, hurt Tendou. He's a monster. Inhuman. He's good at pretending to be human, but when he drops the façade… his eyes…"

"Oh, come now, Kenzaki." The voice is a rich purr, coming from just behind them, and Kaitou spins, hand diving inside his jacket to close on DienDriver. "I rather like my eyes."

They're beautiful eyes. A rich, deep black, the iris somehow seeming even darker than the pupil. Or maybe there is no iris, no pupil, only deep, empty, swirling, awesome—

Tsukasa spins Kaitou around, pulls his head down and presses it tight against the pink fabric of his shirt. Drawing a deep breath, Kaitou tries to get his body to move as he wants it to again. It shouldn't be this hard. He shouldn't have the image of those eyes seared into his mind. Into his soul, and he pulls away from Tsukasa, turns back to the monster with only the faintest trembling of his hands to betray what happened.

The Man in Black is a good name for the creature. It's dressed sharply, in a black suit, black dress shirt, black trench coat and black boots. Fine black hair sprouts in a wild mass from its head, and black eyes peer out at the world. Its mouth is a deep blood-red, its teeth sharp white as it smiles and laughs. "So this is your little resistance, Kenzaki? Pitiful. Kotarou will be disappointed to die for something so… desperate. You do know I've touched all three of these already?"

"Don't you dare hurt him." Kenzaki surges to his feet, lunging toward the Man in Black before pulling himself up sharply. "I didn't run. They found me. Brought me here, and were asking about how to stop all this. So even if you've touched them, you don't own them."

"Once you let me inside, Blade, there's no going back. You should know that. Or do we need another demonstration of what you really are? Of the monster that lurks at your core?"

Kaitou can see Kenzaki's determination crack, fade as he meets the creature's gaze, and after a few seconds the Rider whimpers and takes a hasty step back. Kenzaki's eyes start darting frantically around the room, looking for an exit.

Anger surges through Kaitou, and he lets it run free, acting on instinct. DienDriver is out of its holster before anyone can react, and his shots find their target easily, five point-blank blasts into the creature's eyes.

The Man in Black simply laughs, wiping blood and bits of gelatinous substance off its face before fixing Kaitou with an amused look. Despite the blood, it seems completely unharmed. "Still childish as ever, Daiki. I like it, though. So straightforward, so simple, so easy to use."

"No one uses me." He looks at a point just above the creature's eyes. He's not getting snared in them again. "And I've never 'let you inside', whatever your creepy metaphor means. And I'll keep shooting you in the head until you leave, so you might want to consider relocation very strongly."

"Haven't you let me in? Running world to world, taking what you will, chaos ahead and chaos behind… I know you well, Kaitou Daiki." The Man in Black takes a step toward him, and the world bends around the creature.

The single stride moves the Man in Black farther than it should, puts him far too close to Kaitou, and watching the process makes the thief feel light-headed and nauseous. He doesn't appreciate either feeling, or the negative effect they have on his aim, but he whips Diend up and goes to pull the trigger anyway.

Tsukasa's hand on Diend stops him, and he looks over at the man.

Fire flickers in the depths of Tsukasa's eyes, though it doesn't dance along his skin now. Yet, maybe, and Kaitou takes a single step away from the man. Better safe than crispy.

"This is our place." Tsukasa's hand moves to rest gently on the Man in Black's shoulder, pressing him back first one step and then another. "You should leave it."

"You have several of mine here, little god." The creature smiles. "I'll come to see them whenever I want."

"Kenzaki's more mine than yours. Mine and Vishnu's, and if we're going to talk about overstepping boundaries…"

"Kuuga always belongs to me." Taking a step back, the Man in Black tilts his head in an expression that is almost coy. "Humans trying to bind me, and we all know that's a mistake. If _you_ then made the mistake of trying to trump my power… well, that's not my fault."

Natsumi stands by Tsukasa's side now, though Kaitou can't remember seeing her move to get there. "Humans have the right to choose. Yuusuke had the right to choose. What you've done, these last months… it's wrong. It goes against all you are meant to be."

"Wrong? No. I break no rules. If I whisper, and they listen... if I cry fear, cry doubt, cry death upon the outsider, and they act upon it… Indeed, humans are free to choose. You only protest because they choose me rather than your bonny handsome light." The Man in Black laughs, and there is a black hat upon his head now that he tips forward, shading but not blocking his deep, haunting eyes. When he speaks again, his voice is sonorous, rich, and completely serious. "I do what I am meant to do, my lady. When I am called forth, chaos _will_ crawl across the whole of creation."

"Then tell me, creature." Natsumi meets its gaze, hand sliding over to wrap around Tsukasa's. "Who called you forth?"

"Ah, now." The Man in Black fixes Kenzaki with his dark stare. "Who indeed was playing with the primal forces of creation? Who indeed was brash enough, brazen enough to think they could turn the basic stories of all things into their tools? Two of you had met your own Gods and struck them, but the universe is still much bigger than you, little Riders. _Much_ bigger, and governed by balance. You bought your happy ending for your little corners of the multiverse, but did you ask what price you were paying?"

Kenzaki's head droops down, a slow, steady fall, and tears are trickling from his eyes again.

Kaitou starts screaming a second before the kaijin does, drowning the sound of inhuman heartbreak in his own fury. Diend's recoil feels wonderful in his hands as he shoots at the creature. Fumbling his henshin card out with trembling fingers, he slots it as quickly as he can into the weapon.

How dare he? How _dare_ he make this their fault? How dare he imply they hadn't paid a price already? Before the War, Kaitou had always considered his own world to be the epitome of misery. People held hostage but smiling, terrified but unable to show it, the intelligent and the truly good among them either picked out early in life and groomed to work for the monsters in the government or hounded and killed if they ever tried to step out of line. Sure, other worlds had monsters, but the monsters didn't own your soul and your mind in most places.

The Rider War World, though… that was worse than his world. Tsukasa's disillusionment; the hopelessness and misery of watching the Riders—the heroes, the good guys, the ones he mocked because he was afraid they shouldn't really exist—hunt Tsukasa and then be slaughtered by Tsukasa; the terror and grief of watching first Yuusuke and then Tsukasa fall and being unable to do anything about it… unable to do anything about _anything_, for those miserable fucking days… that was more than enough price for the few months of happiness they've had since then.

"Don't, Daiki." They speak in perfect harmony, move as one. Natsumi hugs him from one side; Tsukasa places an arm across his chest, grabs the hand that's holding Diend.

Tsukasa forces the end of the weapon down, toward the floor. "You can't kill him with that. Not here, not now."

"Not ever." The Man in Black grins, cleaning off his face again and flicking blood against the wall with a flourish of his hand. "Poor little human, so angry and outclassed. So helpless, from the start of your life to its fast-approaching ending."

Tsukasa somehow manages to stare down at the creature, though they're about the same height. "Leave, Chaos. This is our place."

"Chaos?" The creature laughs again. "That's the only thing you can think to name me? I thought you knew me better than that, Shiva."

Natsumi shakes her head, the disdain she feels for the creature clear in her expression. "You've given yourself over a thousand names. But chaos will always be at your heart, and is as good a name for you as any. Now be gone, unless you'd care to test your hand against us."

"And tear this world to pieces? Ah, but that could be interesting." He grins, an expression that fades as he studies the two of them. "Soon, we'll meet in battle. Already the seeds of the end are spread far and wide… spreading wider with every moment, every heartbeat. The universe will die this time. And I will make it die beautifully, singing a song in praise of me."

They don't answer, and the Man in Black sighs. "Until the time is ripe, then. Hold the two of mine if you will, but know that you hold my poison close to your heart. Or have I already stolen your heart, and painted it black?"

The smile that he throws them could cut steel as the creature bows, coat becoming a cloak of deepest black velvet that swirls with the movement. Between one thought and the next the Man in Black is gone, leaving silence in his wake.

A silence deep and empty as the nothingness in the Man in Black's eyes, that can't even be broken by the soft sounds of Kenzaki's keening grief.


	12. Part Eleven: Let your Eyes Half Close

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Decade.

**Author's Note:** There are very minor spoilers for Double in this and a lot of speculation from Kuuga-verse. I don't think there's really anything else to warn about.

_Part Eleven: Let your Eyes Half Close_

He can't remember her name.

He should be able to remember her name. She's his, and he took her less than a minute ago. Her and her guardian, changing them both in a single stroke, and he should know their names. Know the names of the ones he _didn't_ take, because it's easier to slice between worlds and find the next group than search through a world he doesn't know for the people that are supposed to be his.

The world comes into focus again, the bridge falling away, and he knows this place. Japan again, finally, and he smiles.

He knows the young man currently in the process of jumping to his feet. Tsukasa met him, once. Tsukasa liked him, had a connection with him, and taking him will be almost like having Tsukasa with him for a moment.

"Yuusuke? What—"

Takeru. That's the man's name, and he smiles shakily as the power flows from him, claiming this new human.

The other five come running a split second after he starts, as he knew they would. This group is close, tied together by bonds of duty and devotion, and the remaining five would do anything to protect their lord. The darkness slams into each of them, ripping through them and implanting the seeds of the Grongi power in their hearts.

He doesn't stay to see them rise after the change. They'll be fine together, able to control their power and keep from killing each other until he calls them, and he needs to keep going.

The bridge between worlds wavers alarmingly, but he doesn't have the presence of mind to do anything to stabilize it. All his focus is on the next world, the next people, the next opportunity to siphon a bit of the monstrous energy inside him into other vessels.

What world did he just come from? Who did he claim? They were important, he thinks, but he can't remember why, and he frowns as he stumbles into the next world.

Still Japan, and he smiles at the sound of the familiar language as he claims the three who are his from this world. One lunges at him, snarling in primal rage and fear, the tiger that is its soul lashing out at the invasion.

He shouldn't stop. He _can't_ stop, the need to keep going pressing at him, but he won't leave one of his in this state. It's too dangerous, both for the tiger and for the others he's created.

"Hush." His fingers stroke the boy's hair, scratch behind his ears, a gentle touch for his body and a brief influx of power to calm the battle in his soul. "You're fine. It isn't hurting you. Accept this, and come when I call you."

The tiger responds to him, instincts telling it what the humans always take longer to figure out. They are his, and he won't destroy that which is his.

He leaves as soon as the boy relaxes, running between worlds again, because he has to keep going. He has to keep doing what he's doing, though it doesn't actually seem to be helping at all.

It burns. The power burns so strongly, claws so unrelenting at him, hollowing out his mind and soul from the inside, and it isn't getting better. It should be getting better. He's made so many… turned so many… and it should be getting better, but it's not, and he's going to need to go home soon.

He has to be with them when he loses control, has to be by them, so he needs to find his way home soon.

His mind's wandered too much, done too poor a job of directing the bridge between worlds. They emerge a foot above the ground and he doesn't notice until it's too late, stumbling and falling to the forest floor as he exits the portal.

He doesn't rise, because it's possible that there's something he can do just lying here. If the people who are meant to be his are close…

Nothing. Nobody. Just the quiet chirping of night insects, and he curls into a ball, fists pressed against the fire in his stomach. Stupid. Should have been more aware of what was going on. Have to get up, either find the people in this world or just keep going, do something about the fire and the darkness before they devour him entirely.

Home. It's not time to go home yet. Is even further from when he _wanted_ to go home than when he started this, because there's less of him and more of the darkness and that'll mean Tsukasa and Natsumi will fight him more.

But he wants to go home.

"My lord…" Her hand strokes along his forehead, a wonderfully cool touch.

He sighs, uncurling slightly, leaning into the contact. It's not quite right. Not gentle enough or small enough to be Natsumi's hands; not rough enough or long enough to be Tsukasa's fingers. But it's someone touching him without wanting to hurt him, without needing him to fix things inside them, and he gulps down a breath before looking up at her blearily.

Ra-Baruba-De manipulates him gently until he is lying with his head on her lap. "This isn't the way things are supposed to go. I'm sorry, Yuusuke."

Yuusuke. He likes that name. He was Yuusuke, once. When Tsukasa and Natsumi didn't fight him, defy him. When Kuuga didn't burn inside him, a dark flame channeling the black heart of the universe through him and into others.

"He used me." She continues to stroke his hair, though her features harden. A warrior's calm anger, determined hatred, and he smiles. His Grongi, his priestess, perfect in every way. "The Man in Black. He intends to use you for his own ends as well, now. You know that, Yuusuke, right?"

"You made me what I'm meant to be, Ra-Baruba-De." Sitting here, relaxed, calm, with her stroking his hair, the desperate need to keep going fades a bit. He is the Ultimate Darkness, and he is creating the ultimate generation of Grongi, but he can spare a moment to rest here.

"No. I made you what _he_ wishes you to be." Her hand stops moving for a moment. "I… don't want this, my lord. It's not the way this is supposed to go."

He reaches up to touch her face. "How _is_ it supposed to go, Ra-Baruba-De? How did yours go?"

"It's supposed… it's supposed to be wonderful." Her eyes close, studying a time long ago. "Fast and bloody, the first part. When the next generation wakes—when I woke. So much power… it's amazing. Exhilarating. Going from an animal, an imitation of a true life, to a full person so quickly, and proving your right to live… I enjoyed it, my lord. I made a good showing, one of the best of my generation. Almost good enough to earn the N title, to be the one who could institute the next gegeru, but not quite. I didn't mind, though, because there's so much more to it than that.

"The Gegeru is the start and end of a generation. It is important, and awesome, but it's not all that defined our people. We had writing—we _shared_ writing with the Linto, though they were still beasts. We had schools, books, livestock, festivals… oh, the festivals. _The threat of death is the thing that makes you most alive_, our people would say. But Grongi rarely died in the festivals. A little blood spilled, a little sport, but not death during those times.

"Learning to use my power properly, learning the history of our culture, studying the science and the religion and the traditions of our people… I think, maybe, I enjoyed that more than the birth itself." Her hand strokes his hair again, and he inhales, reveling in the smell of green things growing. "I'm certain I did, actually. I'll enjoy teaching it all to you, when you're done choosing our people. Rebuilding our civilization, in whatever world we choose."

He smiles as he sits up, but there's as much sorrow as delight in the expression. His fingers trace lightly across her stomach, above the spot where her own power lies. The last of the old Grongi, the one who is most like they are supposed to be, and he is making his children based on her. Based on her and based on Kuuga, not based on the frantic, ravening energy inside him now, or the madness at the heart of the Man in Black.

"Thank you, Ra-Baruba-De." He stands and offers her a hand up. She rises gracefully, dropping her head in acknowledgment of his authority.

"You seem… better now, my lord."

He _is_ better now. The power's still clawing inside him, still straining and struggling to get free, but ignoring it for a few minutes has allowed him to regain control. To make it so that _he_ is the one leading _it_, not being led by it, a vessel meant to spread its madness far and near.

It won't last. He's certain it won't last, just as he's certain that he won't ever see Ra-Baruba-De's new world. The power that's eating at him comes with a price, and he will pay it eventually.

But he'll be strong until then. He'll create their people, choose the perfect ones, and when _he's_ ready—when the time is right—then he'll go home.

Tsukasa and Natsumi will know what to do when he does.

His right hand curls into a thumb's up, and he smiles at the gesture before opening his fingers wide and slicing another portal between worlds.

XXX

They get Kenzaki to fall asleep as the first rays of dawn are touching the window. He's ended up huddled in Natsumi's bed, because the Grongi's still passed out on Yuusuke's.

"He'll be all right." Natsumi straightens the man's hair, running her hand over it again and again before finally standing up. "He'll be fine. When he wakes up, we'll all be able to go find Yuusuke and take on… that thing."

Tsukasa just shrugs. Maybe. Hopefully. Kenzaki will probably wake up fine, at least. The man's strong, and stubborn. Giving up isn't something he knows how to do.

"Please don't look like that." Natsumi closes the door to her room behind them softly, though Kenzaki's so deeply asleep Tsukasa doubts he would notice if they started slamming all the doors in the house.

"Look like what?"

"Like it doesn't matter. Like you don't care." Leaning against the door, Natsumi closes her eyes. "I'm not asking you to lie, I just… don't…"

"I'm not giving up." He takes her hand in his, acutely aware of how warm her skin feels. Not soft, not anymore, not after all the training she's done as a Rider, but he likes the feel of her calluses. "But I don't know how much Kenzaki's help will or won't matter. We're talking about gods here, Natsumikan. Gods and more than gods. One kaijin more or less—"

"Don't call him a kaijin." Tightening her hand around his, she reaches up with her free hand and places a finger across his lips. "It's mean."

"And it would be very out of character for me to be mean." His tongue slips out from between his lips, taps against her finger. Fire, burning in his blood, but it's become such a familiar feeling that he barely cares. "If he can help, good. If not, we'll try to keep him safe until this ends."

Her hand slides down, trailing from his mouth to his chin to his neck. "I think we should go after Yuusuke next. I think he's the important link now. If we can save him, it should at least inconvenience that… thing."

"I agree." Just the movement of his left foot, a slight shift in posture, and he's pressed close against her. Running his hand up her side, he cups her face. "Save Yuusuke. Save the universe. Banish the Man in Black. Try to fix the worlds. Why do we always end up with missions that are so much work?"

"Because we're good enough to handle them." The words are breathed into his mouth before her lips meet his.

Fire meeting fire. Fire _calling_ fire, and he spins her around, away from the wall, arms wrapping around her.

"Oh, fuck this. I quit." Rolling his eyes, Kaitou turns back toward the stairs.

It's tempting to just let him go. To ignore the human, and revel in the joy that's so very near. Let go of all the desperation and worry of the last hours and _enjoy_ being a god, with his perfect partner at his side.

But the moment's already lost. Natsumi's pulling away from him, the fire in her eyes dying away. Running to the thief, she puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping Kaitou's retreat. "Sorry, Daiki. That was poor judgment on our part. I promise it won't happen again."

"Yeah. Right." The thief runs a hand through his hair, leaving it even more ruffled than it was before. "Are we going? Are we still waiting for your Grongi? What's the plan?"

"We want to go after Yuusuke again." Natsumi lets her hand drop from his shoulder as Kaitou turns completely around, facing them. "We think that if we can get him out from under the control of the Man in Black, we can at least buy ourselves more time if not stop him entirely."

"So we're leaving now?" The statement's tone is almost neutral. If he didn't know Kaitou so well, he might have missed the way the thief's hand slides inside his jacket, undoubtedly finding Diend.

Kaitou's afraid.

More than that, Kaitou's exhausted. Dark circles ring his eyes, and his stance is looser than normal, missing most of his self-assured energy.

"No." Tsukasa strolls over to the other two. "We're waiting a few hours."

"Oh." Kaitou breathes a sigh of relief, muscles relaxing even further, and almost falls down the stairs. He catches himself before he does, trying to make it look like he'd just meant to lean against the wall. "Hoping we can bring the others as back-up?"

"Yeah." He at least wants Kaitou there, though he couldn't say why. Despite the fact that he's still not sure about all the instincts that go with Shiva, this is one he wants to trust. But if they bring Kaitou as he is right now, he's more likely to get himself hurt or killed than actually help them. "Natsumi, are you tired?"

Her eyes flick from him to Kaitou, and she nods. "Exhausted. I think I'm going to ask grandpa if I can steal his room for a few hours. You could sleep downstairs on the couch if you wanted to, Daiki."

"You two…" Rubbing at his eyes, Kaitou shakes his head. "Whatever. Don't leave me behind. If I can just get three or four hours, I'll be good for the day. All right?"

Natsumi takes the thief's hand, giving it a brief squeeze. "I promise. Sleep well, Daiki."

He waves laconically over his shoulder as he goes down the stairs, not bothering to look back at them. He's spent enough time living at the photo studio—though usually his temporary residence is in Tsukasa and Yuusuke's room—that he knows where to go for bedding, so there's no need for them to follow him.

Tsukasa waits until the thief's all the way down the stairs before meeting Natsumi's gaze. "Are you really tired?"

"No." Shaking her head, she sighs. "I hadn't even considered that we've been up all night. Given Daiki's tendency for odd schedules, who knows how long he's gone without sleep. Good catch. What about you? Are you tired?"

"Shiva doesn't get tired." Leaning back against the wall, he crosses his arms over his chest. "Though if you were to invite me to come sleep with you…"

"No." Blushing deeply, Natsumi turns away. She turns toward him after a moment, then turns away again, and she giggles lightly. "No, Tsukasa. Don't even think it."

"I think it's a little too late for that. Given what happens with just a touch…" He reaches out to take her hand. "Or a kiss…"

"I thought we were trying _not_ to give into them, yeah?" Her fingers skitter gently along his face anyway.

"I don't want to kill anyone based on what some cosmic force is thinking or feeling. I want to have control of myself." One of his hands steals around to the small of her back, pulling her tight against him again. "But some things… some things we might not think so differently about. And if the two of us can get some pleasure out of all this misery…"

"If I could say it was really just you saying that…" She kisses him, a sunbeam-soft caress of their lips together. "And if I could know it was really just me feeling this… but we can't. No killing because of cosmic forces being shoved into our souls. No… well, nothing else, either."

He lets her break away from him, pull free of his arms, though the place where she stood feels ice-cold. "Ah. You're right."

"I know. I usually am, to steal a line from someone I know." Natsumi grins, an expression that quickly softens to a more normal smile. "When this is all over… maybe we could consider it. Though I'd hate to hurt Yuusuke… or Daiki…"

"We can have Yuusuke, too. We both like him. Kaitou…" He trails off as he gets a good look at her reaction. His hands rise to guard the sides of his neck. He's not sure if it's Shiva's fault or DaiShocker's Great Leader's fault, but he definitely should have put more thought into the words that were coming out of his mouth.

Natsumi starts laughing a second later, peals of amusement that leave her gasping on the floor. "Tsukasa… you're just… oh, Tsukasa."

Being laughed at is marginally better than being Hikari Family Secret Techniqued. Marginally better. And it really isn't all that funny. They _are_ both fond of Yuusuke, and if it's going to hurt him to be left out… Maybe there are more downsides to being raised by evil organizations than he had thought of before, because he doesn't really understand what the problem is. There's more than enough of him to go around.

Natsumi scrambles back to her feet. "I think I am going to try sleeping, at least for a little bit. The more human we try to be the better, right? Come and get me if anything interesting happens."

She heads downstairs, probably to ask her grandfather if she can borrow his room for a little bit. Tsukasa watches her go, hands slowly falling from their guard position. Sleeping's the last thing he wants to do right now… which is actually a fairly rare occurrence. Maybe if he tries to wake the Grongi again, he can get a few more pieces to this complicated puzzle.

He doesn't need to wake the man. The Grongi's already awake, sitting cross-legged on top of the bedding. His suit jacket, dress shirt and tie are all gone, disposed of yesterday because they'd been torn half to shreds and were liberally soaked in blood. They'd left him his dress pants, because those had come through the fight in slightly better shape and because Tsukasa's only willing to share so many of his clothes at a time. It's really not fair that Yuusuke's so small, making it impossible to just give _his_ clothes to their growing menagerie of castaway monsters.

The Grongi's hand rests against his stomach, over the spot where Tsukasa knows Yuusuke's amadam sits.

"Getting used to everything in there?" Strolling over to his half of the room, Tsuaksa throws himself down on his bed. He stares at the ceiling for a moment before turning to face the Grongi. It's too disconcerting knowing there's someone over there, in Yuusuke's spot, and that it's not Yuusuke. Better to be looking right at him.

"Slowly but surely, yes." The Grongi's hands both fall to his side as he shifts position. Sitting in seiza, he inclines his head a few inches. "I owe you my thanks for your help yesterday. My name's Sonozaki Kirihiko."

"Kadoya Tsukasa."

"Ah." Kirihiko nods. "If I could be impolite for a moment, Kadoya-san… what _are_ you?"

Always the question on everyone's lips, and Tsukasa smiles wryly as he shrugs. He doesn't feel like explaining everything all over again right now. "Just a passing-through Kamen Rider."

"Kamen Rider… like that man…" The Grongi considers the information for longer than most do. "You're acting against the Museum, as well. Are you working with the others?"

"Others?"

"There are two Kamen Riders in Fuuto. Or… there were. Skull hasn't been seen in over a year, and Double disappeared two weeks ago. Neither was quite as… magenta… as you are." Kirihiko's expression closes down. "Do you know anything about them, or what they wanted?"

"No. Sorry. This isn't really my world. We're interested in you because you're a Grongi, and if you're a native of this world _and_ a Grongi that means you met a friend of ours."

"If your friend is prone to kissing strangers and… changing them, then yes, I believe we've met." Kirihiko's hand moves, pressing against the hidden Grongi sigil again.

"Yuusuke hasn't quite been himself lately." Sitting up, Tsukasa watches the Grongi closely. "Tell me what happened."

"I'm not entirely sure. I was hoping to discuss some concerns I have with my father-in-law. There was a young man there. He looked at me… his eyes… pure black. Nothing but darkness." A shiver runs the length of the man's body. "He put some of his power inside me. He… it… something spoke to me while that was happening. A voice in the darkness, but not part of the darkness. His voice, I think, though it was… He told me to hold tight to myself. To protect Fuuto. And then he left, walked through a hole in the world, telling me to stay here until he calls."

"Yuusuke…" What's he trying to do? Why come back to this world to create a Grongi and then leave again? Why tell this man to protect Fuuto?

Why choose him, go to him, when they were so close?

Tsukasa stands, pacing over to the window and looking out. "Tell me exactly what he told you. As closely as you can remember."

"He asked me what I would do, if I could do one thing with my life and death. I told him I would protect Fuuto." The man's words speed up as he talks, and Tsukasa wishes he knew this Kirihiko better. Is that nervousness, fear, excitement? "I was trying to fight him. He asked me not to—or, rather, not yet. Said I could kill him later, but for now I just had to endure." Kirihiko takes a slow, deep breath, features smoothing out again. "Before he left he said I was his first Grongi. He told me to have fun until he came back, out loud. The other voice… it told me to be true to myself. To please stay true to myself. He sounded… tired."

Stay true.

Protect Fuuto.

Seeds spread throughout the whole of creation.

"Oh, Yuusuke…" It clicks together, finally, a picture of what's supposed to be happening, what Yuusuke's doing, and what the probable ending is.

He pulls his hand away from the window too late to stop part of the pane from melting, leaving imprints of his clenched fingers behind.

"Kadoya-san?" Kirihiko's standing behind him.

"You've got control of the power." He's talking to Kirihiko; he also gets control of the fire trying to flicker along his skin while he speaks. "You seem perfectly sane and reasonable right now."

"I am. Or so I like to believe." The man takes a step back, giving him space. "It was difficult at first. There's a certain… exhilaration to this power. Rather like a Memory to an untrained mind, I suppose. It's harder to maintain control when I'm in my other form, or when something very distressing happens, but I believe I'm making good headway on fully containing these new abilities."

"Good. Keep working on it." The fire's gone again, called back inside where it belongs. "What distressing event was it that caused you to turn against the Sonozakis?"

"I haven't." Clasping his hands behind his back, Kirihiko paces over to the door before turning around. "There's no evidence that they know what's being done. Isaka's the type of agent who would act on his own if given the opportunity."

"And what do you think he's doing on his own?"

"Torturing children." Kirihiko's lips pull back from his teeth, a half-feral snarl that looks very similar to the one he wore in his Grongi form. It only lasts a second before the man takes a few deep breaths, regaining his equilibrium. "He didn't expect me to notice, I don't think. Our visit was unexpected, given that I hadn't intended to be accosted and changed into a Grongi. The child was locked in the room two doors down, but when I'm in my other form my senses are remarkable. I could smell his blood. His fear. Hear him whimpering… talking to himself… calling for his partner. I wasn't terribly… diplomatic in asking Isaka what was going on."

"You tried to rip his head off."

"I was considering limbs first, but so far as the general concept goes, yes."

"You realize the Sonozakis sided with him." He speaks gently. Breaking this man is absolutely the last thing he should do. But it's even more dangerous leaving him unprotected from what's going to be a far-too-easy attack. "Including your wife."

"We're trying to help Fuuto. To develop technology that can be used to better lives, save people." Kirihiko shakes his head. "They can't know Isaka's using children for the research."

"You know the Memories are addictive. You know the damage that's done by them on a regular basis." He pauses, watching the conflict on the other man's face. "Kirihiko, they know. They're willing to sacrifice children, whether or not you are."

"Saeko wouldn't…" He trails off, left hand moving to touch his shoulders, his back. "She's not a bad person, Kadoya-san."

"Maybe not. That doesn't mean she can't be involved with this." There are very few people he's met that couldn't be pushed by some circumstances, in some world, to do terrible things. If she's anything like the Sonozaki Saeko he once knew, she definitely isn't one of them. "Are you all right? Still in control?"

"Of course." The man seems legitimately surprised by the question. "Like I said, being surprised by something like that, so soon after, was difficult to take. I acted rashly. I don't intend to do so again."

"What _do_ you intend to do?"

Kirihiko gives the faintest smile, hand reaching for the door. "Save the boy, of course."

"Of course." It's stupid. It's practically suicidal.

It's what Yuusuke would have done.

"Will you help me, Kadoya-san?" The question is spoken to the door. Not hesitantly, though; just a simple question, and Kirihiko seems to honestly not care about the answer.

"I'll help." There are a lot of reasons to help this man, some very selfish and some very self-less. The fact that he reminds Tsukasa of Yuusuke shouldn't even matter, compared to everything else, but it's probably the main reason he agrees so readily.

"And the others from last night? You seemed to have quite a fighting force with you."

"Kenzaki and Kaitou are sleeping. It was a hard night."

Kirihiko mouths Kaitou's name, brows down together in mild perplexity.

"It's his real name, but it's also very fitting."

Kirihiko nods. "Then it will be just the two of us."

It would be very easy to just go with that. He's tempted to—the gods know having Natsumi in danger is bad for his own stability right now.

But she'd never forgive him if he didn't bring her, and more people means less work for him. "No. There'll be three of us. Here. Let me get you a shirt, we can get some breakfast if we're quiet, and then we'll go save your boy."

He goes to Yuusuke's closet. Even though Yuusuke's small, he has a tendency to wear multiple layers of baggy clothing, so one of the man's sweatshirts should work well enough.

After a moment's contemplation he goes over to his own closet, pulling out a shirt he's not terribly fond of and lobbing it toward the other man. Kirihiko catches it in one hand, studying it for a moment with one eyebrow raised before slipping the magenta and black fabric over his head. "Thanks."

"Thank me by getting this done quickly." He brushes past the other man, shoving the door open. "And, once we've saved the kid… helping me get Yuusuke back."

"Your friend… he was human once?"

"We all were, once." Before they were gods. Before they were stories. "But Yuusuke… was the best of us."

Kirihiko's hand grasps his shoulder. "We'll definitely save him."

"Yes." He says it because it's the right thing to say to this man. The right thing to say at this time, because faith and belief are vitally important if anything's going to survive the next few days.

But mainly he says it because he wants it to be true, and if the gods hoping can have any effect on the course of events, maybe that all by itself will make a difference.


	13. Part Twelve: And Time and Birth and

**Disclaimer:** None of the Kamen Rider series belong to me.

**Author's Note:** Spoilers for Double abound in this one. There's also some mention of medical experimentation, but nothing graphic.

_Part Twelve: And Time and Birth and Change are Hurrying By_

"This is not a good plan, Tsukasa."

"It's a perfectly valid plan. Or at least the best I could come up with in a half hour, and I don't see you offering anything better." Tsukasa peers around the corner, making sure that no one's present. "All right, Kirihiko. Shift and sniff."

Natsumi bites back everything she wants to say, cheeks flushing as she glares at Tsukasa. Pointing out that Tsukasa should not treat their guest like a bloodhound will only emphasize the fact that he _is_. When this is over, she's going to laughing pressure point him so hard…

The Grongi crouches for a moment in front of the door to the room where the boy had been held yesterday, drawing a few deep breaths. His long, sleek ears twitch, flicking back and forth against his head. His face shows the vague suggestion of a muzzle around the nose and mouth, though the overall shape is still mainly human. A tail twitches back and forth along the floor. He really does look a bit like a dog, or at least a dog-human hybrid, if dogs could be a light blue color.

"I know." Tsukasa's smile is very self-satisfied as he flicks a look at her before continuing to watch up and down the hall for anyone coming. "I think the blue's due to his Memory; the dog thing is just part of his personality."

It's _so_ tempting to hit him, either with the laughing pressure point or just hit him, but they need to be quiet. It's early enough that there really aren't many workers in the building, but infiltrating secret evil organization's bases is always a dangerous thing.

Tsukasa's smirk says he knows all of that and has taken it into account.

"This way." Kirihiko stays crouched, breathing slowly and steadily through his nose as he leads them. If he's noticed Tsukasa's jabs, he's more mature than the other man, not deigning to respond.

They wend their way down through the building, evading a half-dozen people in the process. Kirihiko's hearing is at least as good as his sense of smell, and he gives them more than enough warning to hide whenever someone comes along.

The building's basement is cold and vaguely creepy, with too many exposed pipes and unmarked doors, too much concrete and not enough light to banish shadows. They can move faster down here, though, and Kirihiko's practically loping along the ground before he skids to a halt in front of yet another unmarked door.

This unmarked door is locked, though. Well locked, chains and a padlock added to the mechanism that was built into the metal frame. Whatever's inside, they don't want it getting out.

Tsukasa reaches out, fingers wrapping around the chains. His eyes drift half-closed, a smile gliding across his lips, and the chains drip down, falling away from the door.

Shaking beads of liquid metal from his hand, Tsukasa yanks the door open.

Kirihiko's boy is actually a teenager—somewhere in his early to mid teens, maybe fifteen if Natsumi had to guess. He huddles back against the wall, hands pressed flat against it, and there are tear tracts down his face.

Standing with a fighter's fluid grace, Kirihiko assumes his human form again. "Don't be afraid. We're here to help you."

"No." The boy edges along the wall, toward the far corner. "I know you. You work for my fa—… you work for _him_."

"I protect the city. And the most important part of any community is the children." Kirihiko holds out his hand. "Come. I'll bring you somewhere safe."

"Tell me your name. Full name." The boy doesn't make any move toward them, but he's calmer already.

Kirihiko lets his hand fall, simply standing at attention and watching the boy. "Sonozaki Kirihiko. Formerly Sudo Kirihiko."

The boy's mouth twitches down in a disgusted grimace. "Of course you took their name."

"Taking Saeko's name wasn't—"

"Shhh." Gesturing curtly, the boy stares right through them. His right hand reaches out, and it looks for all the world like he's taking a book off a bookshelf and opening it, though nothing's there.

Except there _is_ something there. She can see it, almost. A sea of books, an ocean of data, the collected knowledge and desire of an entire planet, and it responds to this boy's touch. Gives him the information he wants, leaps toward the possibility of sentient oversight happily. While not as heady as Parvati's burning energy, it has a slow, steady, pulsing majesty of its own that causes Natsumi's breath to catch in her throat.

Holding his invisible book in his right hand, the young man flips the pages rapidly with his left, eyes flicking back and forth. After a minute or two he looks up at them, snapping the book shut, and the half-felt library fades from Natsumi's awareness.

The boy still moves warily as he walks toward them, but it's a very different wariness. He keeps himself by Kirihiko, away from Tsukasa and Natsumi, and his eyes flick up and down the hallway in terrified uncertainty as he emerges from his prison. "I need to find Shotarou, and then we need to go. Quickly."

"Aren't you supposed to be hurt?" Tsukasa stalks around the boy, examining him from every side. Shiva's fire flickers in his eyes.

"I was injured, but not badly. Or, rather, not permanently." The boy backs away from Tsukasa, actually knocking against Kirihiko's side before stopping. "Isaka knows better than to kill me. Hurt me, yes, in the name of science, but not kill me." Pulling up his shirt sleeves, the boy shows bandages wrapped around each elbow. Lifting his shirt shows a similar swathing of material around his chest and abdomen. "Satisfied?"

Kirihiko's hand falls softly on the boy's shoulder. "Shotarou?"

"Hidari Shotarou. My partner." Head falling down, the boy wraps his arms around his chest. "I need him. So we can help everyone."

"Hidari… the detective?" The Grongi starts back slightly. "How is he—"

The boy pulls away, suddenly looking much less certain of himself.

"They're Double." Tsukasa takes a few deliberate steps away from the boy and the Grongi, leaning back against the wall, almost like normal. There's too much tension in his body, though, too high a flicker of fire in his eyes, but no one but Natsumi would be able to see that. "Hidari Shotarou and Sono—no. Hidari Shotarou and Phillip. Two minds, one Rider."

"You shouldn't be aware of that." Phillip eyes Tsukasa up and down, takes a single step away from Kirihiko in either direction as if observing Tsukasa from multiple angles will make more sense of the man. "What's your name?"

"Kadoya Tsukasa."

The library-that-isn't springs up around the young man again, data shuffling past him at astronomical speeds. Data flowing through him, twining within him, and this boy isn't entirely human.

"Don't bother looking me up in here." Tsukasa straightens, moving away from the wall, and grabs one of the books off the shelves. The book bends in Tsukasa's grasp, writhes like a living thing, desperate to be away from him. Fire flares up from Tsukasa's fingers, trickles around the book, and the creation dissolves into green sparks, data fleeing back into the sea of unfiltered information that birthed it.

"No." Phillip backs away, tripping over Kirihiko. He doesn't seem to be aware of the Grongi catching him, holding him upright, his dilated eyes fixed on Tsukasa as he shakes his head. "Shiva. Destroyer. No."

"No." Tsukasa stares at his own hand, fingers clenching tight for a moment before he very deliberately straightens them. "I'm not. Look, kid, where's your partner? Find that out before—"

"Before someone notices that you're trying to steal him?" The woman stalks toward them, flipping dark hair back over her shoulder with a toss of her head. "Raito, you know how this is going to end. Go back inside, and we'll forgive this little transgression. Kirihiko, Father's willing to forgive you if you come with me now. He understands that this has been hard for you. Not so sure about Saeko, but I can give you Miki to protect you if you want."

"So you did know about this." Kirihiko maneuvers the teen behind him, the Grongi sigil crawling out from beneath his skin as he does so. "He's a child, Wakana. He shouldn't be—"

"He's a part of the family. Aren't you, Raito?" Laughing, the woman pulls a Memory from her pocket. "We sacrifice for the family. He knows this."

There's something wrong with the girl. It hurts, looking at her, a feeling of _wrongness_ that cuts to Natsumi's core and angers something there.

Tsukasa's already preparing to fight, Shiva's fire flickering around his skin, flaring to vibrant life in his eyes. Kirihiko's Grongi form settles over him, and he snarls a challenge in a language that he shouldn't know as he shoves the boy further away from him. The boy's fingers close on the empty air where his belt should be, his mind calling the library again, questing after a partner who should be there and isn't.

And it's all wrong, because this girl doesn't want to do this.

"Take them, Tsukasa." Her lips brush against his, turning the fire's attention from the impending fight to other things. "Find his partner. I'll catch up."

He understands, as she knew he would, grasping the details she doesn't have time to say. Leaving him to deal with the Grongi and the boy, she turns her attention to the woman challenging them.

"You don't want to do this." She speaks gently, standing between Wakana and the others.

"Oh?" Wakana's mouth ticks over to the side. "I think I know what I want to do, thank you."

"You can't do what you want to do." The darkness of Terror's power is twined throughout this child of his, binding her tight, twisting into and defiling her true desires. "You love your brother. You love your father. You can't save either of them, and he uses that to destroy you."

Wakana doesn't answer, slamming the Memory into her skin with more force than necessary and charging.

Dodging the attack is easy, even in the confined quarters of the basement hallway. Though she could, one day, touch this world's god, today Sonozaki Wakana is just a child. A confused, frightened, angry child, and there is so much inside her. Terror's remnants and the echoes they wake in his child call to the warrior; the twisted ties of family that wrap around her call to the lover, the mother.

"You are not bound to be what he wants." Her fingers sink into the child's back, grasp the lingering spider-web wisps of Terror's power and claim it as her own. It makes a thin blade, but strong enough to block the girl's retaliatory blows. "You are not the dark creature he would like you to be."

"It's not… that's not what he wants." Her voice breaks and cracks, tears that this form can't cry finding the only way they know to exit. Lashing out with first one fist and then the other, the child drives her back. "We're going to save the planet! Save the world. And we need Raito to do that."

"You taunt your brother. Torment your brother. Would you have done that, before your father violated your soul?" She doesn't attack. That would be an unnecessary cruelty, and though she wields Kali's blade there's no need for that dark presence right now.

Just as there's no need for her to claim Kivala, though the bat flutters unhappily around her.

"I can't trust _you_ with Raito, either." The girl's voice drips contempt. "I know what your friend did to Kirihiko. What you made him. And you didn't ask, either."

"We're helping Kirihiko now. And Vishnu's choice… Yuusuke's choice… it is wrong, yes, to violate another's soul like that. But to give Kirihiko the power is a sign of trust, a sign of respect, even if it was an act drawn forth by desperation."

The girl pauses, both arms against the sword.

"Is that what your father meant with what he did to you? Respect? Trust?" She speaks gently, letting go of the sword with one hand and offering it to the child. "Wakana, please. Choose your own path."

"He loves me." Her voice says she's still crying, grief without tears. "He loves Raito."

"Yes. Probably." She drops the sword, lets the writhing power dissipate into black smoke and fade away. "But _that_,which he used against you so readily, is a poor carrier for love, and death a harsh thing to demand of those one is supposed to protect."

"I won't die. And Raito will live within me." She sinks down to her knees, dopant form dropping away as the memory clatters to the ground. "We'll save the world."

"You'll kill the people you love. The people who listen to you. The people who trust you." She touches the child's hair gently. "And though the dead always live on in those they love, your brother will most certainly be among the dead."

"He's already—"

"Is he?" She strokes the girl's hair. "He touches something enormous; you have the potential to, as well. Not all godlings have to die, Wakana. I promise you that, though finding other ways is difficult. Search for one, though. Find a way to save him. Find a way to save yourself. You are mine, little one. You belong to me and to Vishnu, family and preservation, and if you look you will find a way for all of you to survive."

"You're not… supposed to be here." The girl's arms go around her, hug her tight.

"No." She smiles, brushing a kiss against the child's head. "In many ways, no. I should not be in the world, and my love should not be in the world, and the Crawling Chaos should not be in the world. Our time to interact with creation in this way has long passed. The birth of new gods shows that clearly, if nothing else does. But we are here, and while we are here we will do our best to do some good."

"Father's going to be here soon." Wakana pulls away from her, grabbing the Memory and pocketing it again. "You should go."

She isn't scared of Terror. How can she be, when terror lives at the core of her other half, dances wildly with her on dark and bloody nights? But this child doesn't need to see that, so she simply smiles and offers her hands to the girl. "Will you come with me? Come with Raito?"

"No." Shaking her head, Wakana climbs to her feet. "I have things I need to do here. With Father. With Saeko. But I'll think about what you said."

"He will attack you again." He has no choice, has left himself no other options. She can save her brother, save herself, maybe even save Kirihiko and Saeko, but this godling will never be able to save her father. "He will try to use Terror's power against you."

A determined smile settles into place, a young person's certainty, not blunted or shaken by the experiences she's been through. "I'm ready this time. I won't let him try to use me against Raito. I'll make my own decisions. My own Gaia Impact."

It's a dangerous decision to make. A poor decision to make, even, but a very human one. All the new gods are human, in all the worlds, and it shouldn't surprise her so much. After all, the old gods were born from humanity, once upon a time, though not so purely and cleanly as these new ones are.

The power of the planet circles the girl, quests against her humanity, recognizing the host it will one day claim. Not yet, because the girl is still too human, her power too untapped, but one day soon… and what will brother and sister do with their power?

What will the world ask them to do, given hands with which to move things, eyes with which to see, mouths with which to scream?

Not hers, not her place, and she will not interfere. She will not make herself a god among gods, though a part of her longs to.

Choice. There must be choice, or the Man in Black will win everything.

She smiles and nods at the girl before leaving, running toward where she knows her lover is. They're already outside the building, waiting for her in an alleyway. Kirihiko carries an unconscious man, and the way Phillip stays by the man's side makes it obvious who it is. "He's alive."

"Of course he is." The look Phillip throws her is vicious, a combination of fear, anger, and uncertainty. "Wakana?"

"Fine. Looking for her own path again. Come. We need—"

"Natsumi."

Tsukasa's fingers wrap around her wrist as the name rings in her ears. Not the right name, not anymore, and that hurts more than it should. Why should it hurt, for the avatar to become what it is meant to be?

"Hikari Natsumi. Not Sati. Not Parvati. Not Kali."

It's hard. It's so hard to separate herself from the fire, to find the divisions between them now, especially with his hand on her arm. And why should she? He said himself that gods will be of more use than Riders in this coming battle. Better to just stay like this, accept what is to be.

"Natsumi, please. I need…" He shivers, swallows hard, not looking at her.

He needs her to be human, so he can be human. Just as before he needed her to become a monster, a killer, so he could stop being one. "Tsukasa… I can't. There's so much… it feels so…"

"I know." His thumb brushes over her skin, sparking fire against fire. "But we can do it. Kenzaki can control Joker. Yuusuke could control Kuuga and the Ultimate Darkness. For years. And we're better than both of them, right?"

"It's not a competition." Drawing a deep breath, she focuses on the part of her that's angry at him. The part that doesn't like him down-playing what Yuusuke can do, what Kenzaki can do. The part that defends humans as just like her, when the truth is so very far from that now. "We're all just doing the best we can."

"And this is the best you can do? Should have known. Natsumikan just can't—"

Yanking her wrist away from him, she gives him a shove. "I can do anything you can do. I've got control of it."

She _does_ get control as the words leave her mouth, locking the fire away, keeping it as deeply buried as she can. It's not the way she _should_ get control, focusing on the petty aspects of humanity, but there's so little time, and any amount of control is better than none.

"We need to leave." Phillip tugs on his partner's limp arm. "If you'll carry him, Kirihiko, I'll show you where to go."

Tsukasa takes a step toward them.

"No. Not you two." The boy holds up his hand, waving them back in a warding gesture. "You shouldn't be here. Not in this world, not interfering with this."

"We saved your life, you know." Tsukasa crosses his arms over his chest.

"I know." The Library flickers around him again, the knowledge of a world. "But this isn't your story. Not your place."

"We've been tied into this." Tsukasa's eyes flick to Kirihiko before fixing on Phillip again. "All of creation's tied into this."

"I… I can't…"

He's just a boy. A godling, the hope of a planet, but just a boy, and he's been through hell in the last few days. "Let's leave them be, Tsukasa."

Kirihiko shifts the limp burden in his arms, gathering the man in closer to his chest. "When I'm certain these two are somewhere secure, I'll come help you find your friend. I gave my word, and I'm not going back on it."

"No." Tsukasa draws a deep breath, exhaling a quiet sigh. "Phillip's right. You have your story here, with them. Things are back on track now, the way they would be going if the Man in Black hadn't used Sonozaki to get to Yuusuke."

Kirihiko's bemused expression makes it obvious he doesn't know what any of that means; Phillip's expression is somewhere between exhilaration and panic as he draws information to him, trying to learn in seconds what people spend lifetimes striving to discover.

"Careful, Phillip." Natsumi reaches out to gently touch one of the half-tangible books, earning a terrified look from the young man. "Your partner needs you right now. You'll have plenty of time to look up what we are, what it is, what _you_ are, once this is over."

"Ah. Right." Tugging on his partner's sleeve again, he uses that fulcrum to lead the Grongi after him. Away from them, and all the chaos that they are. "I am… thank you. Thank you, and good luck with the other one."

She waits until the three men are gone before turning back to Tsukasa. "He'll call Kirihiko, anyway. When the time comes."

"Yes." Tsukasa shoves his hands into his pockets, wandering back out into the street and toward the studio. "They'll all be called. Yuusuke's hand-picked heroes, the ones Vishnu chose... Being wrapped up in these avatars, at this time… we're not what we're meant to be."

"No." Her fingers find his as a shiver runs up and down her spine. The darkness pressing close, closer, as the end of all things approaches. "I think we can't be, right now."

"Because we're missing so many?" His fingers tighten around hers. "Or because _it's_ walking?"

"Both. Gods can't exist in a vacuum." The only warm part of her is the part that's touching him. "And to fight _it_… to beat him, for even a little bit longer…"

He puts an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close against him. "It's time to call Yuusuke home, isn't it? Time to act, before all we do is react."

All she can do is nod, though tears prick her eyes and her heart starts to break.

Even the gods are only avatars, in the end.

And for everything to live, sometimes avatars have to die.


	14. Part Thirteen: The Center Cannot Hold

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Rider 'verses or other shows that are mentioned here. I just love them all.

**Author's Note:** This has the start of the goriest part of the whole story (you'll understand when you reach the end of the chapter). There aren't really any additional spoilers, though. Hopefully someone enjoys.

_Part Thirteen: The Center Cannot Hold_

Tsukasa wakes him gently, a light touch on his shoulder and a repetitive, almost chanting calling of his name. That's the first thing that tells him something's wrong, because that's not like Tsukasa at all. Tsukasa wakes him by throwing pillows on him, by dumping a glass of water on his head, by stealing his blankets or tipping whatever he's sleeping on over. Not like this.

So he refuses to get up, curls in tighter on himself and tries to pull the blanket up over his head. He's not dealing with this right now, especially when he's so tired he feels vaguely nauseous.

"Oh, come on, Kaitou." Tsukasa gives his shoulder a shove, hard enough to tip the couch back against the wall.

It's more like how things are supposed to be, so he cracks one eye open and stares blearily at the other man. "What? World ending already?"

Tsukasa's annoyed look smoothes out into a blank façade, but not before Kaitou catches a hint of sorrow, a tinge of desperation.

"I wasn't serious, you know." Sitting up, he straightens his jacket, making sure Diend's still where it's supposed to be. "Though apparently you are. What happened?"

"Don't bother. They either can't or won't answer." Kenzaki sits at the table, his borrowed, ill-fitting clothes rumpled. Dark circles ring his eyes as he scowls at Tsukasa and then at Natsumi. Overall a distinct improvement from when Kaitou last saw him, though he doubts the kaijin would appreciate knowing that.

"Anything we say could be learned by others." Natsumi pats Kenzaki's shoulder, a gesture of tender but completely impersonal affection.

"You guys aren't doing so well." Kaitou says it flatly, a statement of fact.

They both pause, just for a second, before looking at each other.

Scrambling to his feet, he moves between them. "Uh uh. No conversations that the rest of us can't participate in. What happened?"

Natsumi reaches out to take his hand, and he backs away. "You need to trust us, Daiki."

"Trust isn't something I'm terribly good at." Tsukasa's hand falls on his shoulder, and he twists away from him. "Look, if Kenzaki and I don't know what's going on, we can't help much."

Tsukasa shrugs, expression blank and empty. "You won't be able to help with the first part, anyway. Just watch, and help us when you can."

He swings at Tsukasa. It's an impulse, and a childish one, but he doesn't care. He's trying to help them, when he should really be running for his life, attempting to find somewhere far away from all this mess where he can maybe ride out the apocalypse in peace. Tsukasa _knows_ how hard things like this are for him, and yet—

"Daiki." Tsukasa catches his hand, holds it in an iron grip. By stepping toward him, twisting his arm, the man somehow manages to get in close. To wrap his free arm around him, and pull him in tight against Tsukasa's chest.

Natsumi's arms come around him from the other side, locking him between the two. He shouldn't enjoy this. He shouldn't want this, _doesn't _want this, but it's comfortable. Warm—wonderful, flickering, beautiful warmth, and he tries to meet Tsukasa's gaze but the man has his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"You belong with them, Kaitou Daiki, and they with you. All three of them." Natsumi's voice whispers in his ear. "They believe that. Do what you will with the information."

His breath catches in his throat, a moment of panic and uncertainty as they both release him. How is he supposed to respond to that? What does that even _mean_?

Kenzaki's staring at him.

"What?" He snaps the word, straightening his clothes yet again. "And you two, don't think that…"

They're not paying any attention to him. Standing with a meter and a half between them, they both hold out a hand. Tears stand out in Natsumi's eyes, slowly, steadily start to trickle down her face; Tsukasa's face is stone-cold, even worse than during the Rider war.

"Kuuga. Vishnu. Yuusuke." The words are said in perfect unity, at a level just slightly quieter than normal speaking. "Kuuga. Vishnu. Yuusuke."

If he's going to stop this, he needs to move now. Grab one of them, pull them away, hope the energy that's permeating the studio and causing his hair to stand on end will dissipate.

_Trust us, Daiki._

How? When they're crying, when they're hurting, when they're not even _themselves_ anymore, how is he supposed to trust them?

"Kuuga."

A spark between their hands, a waver in the fabric of the world.

"Vishnu."

The waver grows, will be a bridge soon, a connection between worlds. Calling their missing member home, and why is he so scared of this? They were going to go after Yuusuke next, anyway. It's the most obvious thing to do.

"_Yuusuke_."

The bridge snaps into being with the scent of fire and the sound of a river tumbling against stone, and it's too late to do anything even if he wanted to.

XXX

It hurts.

Nothing human could hurt this much and live. Nothing human could contain the power that's raging through him, straining against his will. But he's not human.

He is Grongi. The lord of the Grongi, the first among them, and he does not give in to pain. It is an inconvenience, at best, something to be shrugged off.

(_Fists connecting with jaws, armored and then unarmored, and he is the one crying, he is the one laughing, a dichotomy that should not exist._)

He doesn't pause between making bridges anymore. Through one, loose the power, and while his chosen change he's already making the next bridge. It would be bad, if he was still taking everyone he could, but he's not. Just the important one, the best one, and leave the others to stabilize his chosen. The best plan, now, since sharing the energy doesn't even make a dent in it anymore. Doesn't dampen the pain that he's _not_ feeling, absolutely not feeling, because he is the Ultimate Darkness.

"My lord…"

She stands between him and the bridge. He would not tolerate that, were it anyone else. Would kill her where she stood, should perhaps still do that, but her hands were kind.

In the forest, in the quiet that was bought with precious energy so he could make it even this far, she was kind.

"Move, Ra-Baruba-De." He can't stop for long. He can't contain it for long. Home. He will need to go home soon, though he doesn't want to.

"Yuusuke, please. Rest." She kneels before him, a supplicant. "My lord, he drives you like a beast of burden. This is not right. This is not how things are supposed to go."

"You said that before, Ra-Baruba-De." His right hand is clenched tight against his abdomen, covering the piercing, throbbing focal point of his power. It will burn right through his skin, drive a hole through his body and all of reality if he doesn't move soon. "It doesn't matter."

"Defy him!" She stands as she says it, practically spitting the words into his face. Her Grongi form climbs about her, filling the immediate space with the smell of moisture, the soft rustle of leaves. "We are Grongi. There are more of our people now than there have ever been before, and they are warriors all. Lead us against him. You are not a passive pawn, Yuusuke. You never have been, and if he—if _I_—was able to make you one then you are not fit to wield the authority I granted you."

There is no calming of the darkness burning within him. Not at this point, not when it's so close to being completed. But something inside him still reaches for her, turns the strike that could have ended her life to a fierce caress of her arm that rips his hand open on the thorns that adorn her Grongi form.

Licking the blood from his palm, he smiles hazily. Life. Water. Blood. Death. "Out of all of them, I think you could have been mine."

She stares at him, completely at a loss. Taking a step to the side, he laughs quietly to himself as he works on cutting his new hole between worlds.

It will be time for him to go home, soon. Do they see that?

Will they fight him?

He will kill them if they do. Rip them limb from limb, not touching a hair on their heads.

His friends, his closest friends, and they will burn with him. Not death. Not for them.

Just the fire.

_Yuusuke._

Their voices, calling him across the multiverse. Summoning him back to where it began, to where it all can end.

Do they understand his plan? Do they have one of their own?

It doesn't matter, so long as it ends soon.

There are tears in his eyes and a grin on his mouth as he throws himself recklessly along the bridge they send for him.

XXX

He smells like blood. Blood, death, darkness, as if darkness could have a smell, and Kaitou finds himself taking an involuntary step back, gagging.

He looks even worse than he smells. Dark blood, visceral blood soaks his clothes, complemented here and there with fresh red stains. Every article of clothing on him seems to be soaked in blood and peppered with holes. Claws, guns, knives… what _hasn't_ Yuusuke had used against him in the last day?

His movement isn't impaired, though. He comes through the bridge at a run, throwing himself at Tsukasa with vicious force. The two of them roll across the floor, fetching up hard against the couch.

"Mine." It's Yuusuke's voice, though low and husky, a tone the thief's never heard from him before. "Home. Mine."

The power rolls off him in waves. It isn't shadow. Kaitou knows that, but it's the way his mind first interprets it, and he likes that better than what he sees when he looks harder. Too many shapes, too much movement, all of eternity screaming in pointless, useless, unending change, and he must see it as shadow. Just shadow.

Shadows, sliding across everything, blotting out the light. Delving deep into any living thing they find, from the spider on the wall to the bird on the sill to the thief who should have run but didn't, and he can't move.

Can't run. Can't scream. Can't fight, and why did they do this? Why did they call this thing home, to destroy everything?

And how in the name of all the gods he's never known is _he_ supposed to help stop it?

XXX

She rips him off Tsukasa, using a strength her human body shouldn't have. He twists in her arms, vicious, bestial, and the darkness that he's supposed to be containing laps around her. Strives against all that she is, trying to find the human side, the vulnerable side, but that part of her is protected now, if it even still exists.

Just as Tsukasa is protected now, wrapped in Shiva's fire, but the avatar's name still feels right, so she will continue to use it.

"Yuusuke—"

He breaks free from her grip, bounding across the room in an animal's crouch before turning and charging at her again.

Nothing of Yuusuke in the black pits that were once his eyes.

Nothing of Vishnu in the chaos leaping from him.

"I'm sorry, Yuusuke." Tsukasa whispers the words, too low for any human to hear. Or maybe he just thinks them, a flicker of absolute sorrow between one action and the next, but she understands.

He killed this man, once. For destruction to end, for creation to begin, but it hurt him deeply anyway.

She won't let him be hurt like that again.

He's fast; she's faster, batting his hand up, using him to distract Yuusuke's guard as her fingers dig through clothing and flesh until they lock firmly on their target.

"Yuusuke, stop."

There's no need to repeat the command. She's not sure he could move even if he wanted to. Tsukasa has his arms wrapped around Yuusuke's, pinning them tight to his body. And she has the amadam between her fingers, Kuuga's life-source, pulsing hot and hard against her hand.

"Oh, bravo." It claps politely, a firm, steady rhythm, but she doesn't deign to look at the Man in Black as her teeth clench tightly together. "A fine showing. But you didn't really think you could call him without my noticing? Destroy him, before I could react?"

No. They hoped, because this thing is an avatar as much as they are and thus capable of making mistakes, but it had been a slim hope at best.

"You've served me well, Kuuga." The Man in Black steps up beside her, fingers moving to run along Yuusuke's cheek.

She would kill him, if she could. But creatures such as he don't die, can't die, just as the fire playing within her and Tsukasa can never truly die, and every movement she makes hurts Yuusuke.

"Now, Kuuga… call my army to me, and make them as they should be." His finger is a claw, is a stinger, drawing a single fresh drop of crimson blood from Yuusuke's neck… and throwing wide the floodgates that Vishnu's strength had kept mostly closed.

The pounding energy of destruction, of death, of chaos burns through him and into the world, into the _worlds_, using Kuuga's connection to the Grongi to touch all of them. Trying to create seeds of madness, pockets of annihilation that will grow, will spread, and only the strength of Yuusuke's will and of those he chose keeps it in check for the long seconds she hesitates now.

She needs to end this, as she ended things with Tsukasa during the last War. To be the one who brings to a close the period of destruction, who calms the fury and the madness, but…

"Do it." The words are panted in the Grongi tongue between shuddering breaths of pain. "Please." He reaches for her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. When his fingers can touch only air, Tsukasa's hold on him too tight to overcome, they curl into a weak thumb's up. "Natsumi… free me."

Choice.

A life, given freely.

A death, granted in sorrow and remorse.

Tears running down her face, she clenches her fingers tight, crushing the amadam into a thousand pieces and ripping as many of them as she can free of Yuusuke's body.


	15. Part Fourteen: Passionate Intensity

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters used in this belong to me. I just like playing with them and their worlds.

**Author's Notes:** No real new spoilers, and nothing terribly bloody in here. Hopefully someone's still reading and enjoying!

_Part Fourteen: Passionate Intensity_

Yuusuke screams.

She understands why. What she's done to him would make anyone scream, even without the impact it's having on the battle in his soul.

It still hurts, though.

"It's okay. Yuusuke, it's okay." Tsukasa lays him down, helping Yuusuke's trembling hands move to cover the gaping hole in his gut. Helping him hold himself together as the shadows flicker and fade, because there's nothing left here to call them.

"You actually did it." Disbelief flashes across the face of the Man in Black as he studies Yuusuke's prone form. "Does so little of your humanity remain? Ah, well…"

The Grongi throws herself at the Man in Black as soon as the echoes of the shadow's power have faded enough for her to move.

He doesn't fight her. He moves closer to her, actually, lips tipped upward in a self-satisfied smile as the Grongi's vines wrap around him limbs, quest down into his skin, seeking to rend him apart.

Not good, not what needs to happen now. It makes it all pointless, if the Grongi gives him another vessel with which to act.

"Ra-Baruba-De." Yuusuke's voice is strong, commanding, despite the fact that he's panting for breath. Vishnu's power radiates out from him, the calm at the center of the last storm. It's hard to worry about anything, standing here in the cool ambiance of his presence. "Let him go. Come here."

"Too late, Vishnu." The Man in Black's smile grows, dark blood dripping down in a steady patter from his fingertips as he looks at the woman.

The Grongi snarls low in her throat, a harsh invective. "You betrayed us. You offered me a second chance, but our race's survival was never your intention."

"Not true, little Grongi." His eyes are black gateways to the hole underlying all things, no longer even attempting to be human. The first bit of the façade to fall, the first acknowledgment that they have done more than inconvenience him. "Of all creation, I love your kind the best."

"Yes." Tsukasa stands, Shiva's fire dripping from his hands along with Yuusuke's blood as he fixes his gaze on the Man in Black. "But when you despise all of creation, and then despise yourself for being conscious enough to hate, that isn't saying much."

"Ra-Baruba-De." Yuusuke's tone is quieter now, gentle, but no less commanding. The thrum of power from him continues, but it isn't focused on the woman. It bleeds out of him, drips from him as steadily as the crimson liquid starting to pool on the floor. "Let him go. Attacking him will not help us in any way."

"Yuusuke…" With a dissatisfied sigh she pulls back, the living tendrils of her flesh releasing their hold on her captive with reluctance.

The Man in Black laughs, reaching for her, running a bloody hand along her face. "Why listen to him now? There is nothing for the Grongi in that dying body of his. Chaos, destruction, change, burning at the center of you, defining you. He is none of that now. He cannot understand. He has spurned your gift, in this world and so many others. You owe him nothing. You belong to me, as all Grongi belong to me."

"No. That's not…" Yuusuke shakes his head. "But you know how things are." Gritting his teeth, he props himself up on his right arm, his left hand clutched tight to where the amadam once sat. "Your choice, Ra-Baruba-De. Always your choice."

The woman stares at Yuusuke before smiling and taking a step back from the Man in Black. "I am not and never shall belong to you, creature. None of the Grongi will." Moving to Yuusuke's side, she kneels down, fingers moving to rest softly against his shoulder. "Blood sport, my lord. We Grongi revel in blood sport, but not the end of all things."

The Man in Black snarls, the first break in his unconcerned façade. "I brought you from Death's ocean, Ra-Baruba-De. You are mine."

Tsukasa moves to stand between the creature and the Grongi, Shiva's fire flickering white-hot along his skin. "You cannot take that which is not given to you. The Grongi do not belong to you."

"They will fall. Madness at their hearts, chaos threaded through their souls…" The creature takes a deep breath, regaining its calm poise. "He has given me the heroes of all the worlds, and I will break them."

Natsumi shakes her head. "They are human. You cannot directly harm them."

The creature snorts in amusement and disdain. "They are Grongi now."

Tsukasa takes a step toward the creature, a step to the side, and she mirrors him. A warm-up, the beginning of the dance, and she can feel the fire climbing over her now, too. "Grongi. Agito. Orphenoch. Undead. Imajin. Worm. Fangire. _Human._ Sentient, sapient, emotional, the stewards of creation, and _you cannot touch them_."

"I don't need to touch them." The Man in Black takes a step away, energy gathering around him. Will he run? Will he attack, dropping his human façade and unleashing as much of the madness as he can? "As I've shown so clearly, so patiently these last months, I can break them without touching a hair on their pathetic heads. They sense my power, my presence, and they turn on each other in a heartbeat."

"But they give you no avatar with which to move freely." She smiles, circling this creature of the dark spaces. They must move this confrontation, take it to the spaces between, because this world will not survive what they are about to attempt.

But they can do it, maybe. If they can just find the right rhythm, call forth the right chords… contain his power, bind him back to the madness that spawned him…

"They give me a face." He retreats another step, features shifting hungrily as he does. How many masks has he worn, walking the worlds? "Names. Nyalarthotep. Yamm. Lotan. Tia—"

"And when they name you, it is no longer you." She smiles at the Man in Black as they slide into the emptiness between worlds, the churning nothing that exists between thoughts and creation. More his space than theirs, but they _can_ do this. If they pay the price, claim the power completely, they can do this.

"To give chaos a name is to tame it. To make sense out of pointless happenstance. To make beneficence and malignance from the endless change that creation defies." Tsukasa holds his right hand out, fire twining about his fingers into the shape of a sword.

"To name something is to give it shape." Her own swords come to her easily, Kali's dark blade in one hand, Parvati's shining one in the other. "To make gods, but the gods can only act when their people give them power. Give them body, give them voice, but who could give body and voice to _you_?"

"Their artists give me voice." His shape is still vaguely human, in that is has two arms, two legs, and something like a head, but that is the most that can be said of it. "Give me names, faces, power."

"No." Tsukasa's smile is as cold as Shiva's fire is hot. "They use you, to frighten, to explain, and then they banish you. No story of your own, but you wouldn't want one anyway."

The thing that was the Man in Black lashes out at him, an outpouring of energy, a thrashing of shade against the brilliance of firelight. It isn't the real start to the dance, though. Just a test of power, a show of strength to determine if they really are a threat.

Her swords are beautiful as they rend the shadows that flow from him, ensuring her place in the dance is kept. "Yuusuke was your best chance, but even the lord of the Grongi could never contain a fraction of you."

_They are mine._ He speaks without words now, twining between them, joining the dance more fully. They have left him no choice. _They touch chaos._

"And you, though you style yourself Chaos, are not that beast." She pauses by Tsukasa's side, preparing herself for what is to come. "Matter and antimatter. Creation and the void. You are the avatar of a thing that cannot have an avatar, and for that I pity you. Because it means you can never win. It means we can and will defeat you."

_I will destroy it. All of it._ His form shifts, shivers, changing between one breath and the next as his frustration grows. _There will be no creation. No humanity. No rules._

"They called you forth by accident. Looking for a way to save everything, they reached for the power of god. But where light is, dark was; where creation stands, emptiness waits." Tsukasa brushes the back of his hand against hers, the fire that rises from their skin burning together for one final moment.

_You have no right to do this. The gods cannot act without the consent of the creators. Useless avatars. Pointless, pitiful creations._ It spreads out, filling the shivering, formless space around them. The emptiness defying all power to fill it; the pointlessness denying all significance; and nothing human could possibly survive here. _Look on me through the eyes of those avatars. Look on me and run screaming, spreading my message throughout all the worlds._

"You're right." Tsukasa's smile is beautiful as he looks at her, cocky, self-assured, so very determined and so very, very _him_. "Nothing human can defeat you. But to act, Shiva, Kali, the thing from which they're crafted need human bodies. Human bodies freely given.

"I told Yuusuke I'd protect his smile." Turning his attention back to the creature, Tsukasa raises his flaming swords into a guard stance. "He won't be doing much smiling if we let all of creation die, right, Natsumikan?"

Yuusuke won't be doing much smiling, anyway. Yuusuke's dying, his human body held together by the power of a god made manifest, but it won't stay that way for long. Especially given that Vishnu has a task of his own to perform, something much more suited to his skills than battle such as this ever was.

If they do this, there's no going back. No unseeing what's been seen, no reclaiming humanity once it's been cast aside. It would be easy to say there's no choice, that this is what has to be done, but there is a choice. Always a choice, where gods and good are concerned.

She kisses him once, just a quick brush of her lips against his cheek. "For Yuusuke, then."

Falling into a guard stance, she lets the fire take her completely.

XXX

"Nice Joker. Good Joker." Kaitou doesn't run. Kenzaki had said running was a bad thing to do in front of Joker, and he'd really prefer not having to shoot the man. "Come on, Kenzaki. Get control."

The kaijin snarls, saliva dripping from his serrated teeth.

"Okay, Kenzaki, that's just gross." Moving slowly, he inches his henshin card towards DienDriver. Kenzaki hasn't outright attacked him yet, but being stalked isn't something he appreciates. Maybe he should just let the kaijin charge at Tsukasa and company. They should be able to handle it.

After all, look what they managed to do to Yuusuke.

To the thing that was using Yuusuke, channeling through him, and he understands why Natsumi did what she did. But he'll never be able to forget the sight of her ripping those glistening, dark fragments free of Yuusuke's body. Never not be able to hear the sound of Yuusuke _screaming_ as she did it, and he needs—

"Kenzaki." It's Yuusuke's voice, but Kaitou's afraid to look at the man. "Kenzaki. Kaitou. Calm down. It's gone. The Man in Black's gone."

"I'm perfectly calm." Kaitou is pretty calm, now. His henshin card's in DienDriver, so even if Kenzaki loses what little control he evidently has of his kaijin form he'll be able to defend himself fairly well. "Get him to stop drooling on the carpet and we'll be good."

"Kenzaki Kazuma." Power goes along with the name, raises the hairs on the back of Kaitou's neck and sends a shiver down his spine. Yuusuke limps forward, left hand digging into the freshly blood-soaked fabric over his abdomen, right arm over the shoulders of the Grongi who had followed him between worlds. "Be calm. You know how to deal with this."

The kaijin shivers, taking a step back. His human form flickers around him once, twice before fading again, and he keens, the haunting sound made worse by the fact that it's almost human.

"I know. He has a hold on you because you are a force for destruction." Yuusuke's left hand tightens down, and Kaitou forces his eyes to move away from the mainly-covered wound. He'd really rather not see anything that might be present there, anyway. "But destruction isn't just a part of him. Of it. Shiva is destruction, but destruction for rebirth."

The kaijin keens again, and Kaitou fights the urge to simply lean back against the wall and let things happen. It's really not fair that everyone else can apparently understand all the bizarre languages they're speaking in.

"He's not speaking the Undead language, Kaitou." Yuusuke smiles at him for a second. "He's just hurting from having that energy resonate inside him. And that I can understand. But you're human, Kenzaki. You're human, you don't have to give into it, and if you calm down you can get control back. Lots of things touch on the power that spawned him, but that doesn't mean they belong to him. I promise."

Certainty radiates from Yuusuke. Certainty and a sense of calm, of peace that only gets stronger as the man takes another assisted step forward.

Kenzaki retreats a handful of steps, stops, and moves hesitantly forward. With each step he takes tension seems to leave his body, until he kneels in his human form in front of Yuusuke. "What… are you?"

"A fragment of what you tried to call. A piece of the ultimate story." Taking his right arm from around the Grongi's shoulders, he holds it out to Kenzaki, helping him back to his feet. "You can call me Vishnu, if you want."

"Your name's Yuusuke." Kaitou frowns, crossing his arms over his chest, making it harder for anyone to see them shaking.

"Yes. This avatar was named Yuusuke, once." He smiles, a quick grin that looks almost like Yuusuke before it fades. "Call me what you will, Kaitou Daiki. My name's not important right—"

"_Yuusuke_. Your name's Yuusuke." He moves toward the man as he speaks, voice getting louder with each step. "You're Onodera fucking Yuusuke, and you're going to get yourself to a hospital while I go find Tsukasa and Natsumi and—"

Emptiness.

Nothingness.

Going on forever and ever, cold and calm but never boring. Always moving, always changing, just for the sake of changing. Not that it takes pleasure in this—it can't. No pleasure. No emotion. Just existence. Just—

He screams as reality reasserts itself, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his hands as tight as he can against his ears. Two other voices are joined with his, one male and one female, but that doesn't mean much right now. It's just two more inputs, two more things that he can't process because he can't tell if there's too much or not enough going on around him.

"It's all right, Daiki." Yuusuke's right hand wraps around his shoulders. "It's too close to us, still, and too even a battle. Things bleed through. But you're all right."

He doesn't smell like blood anymore. He should. Yuusuke should smell like blood and worse, ripped open like he is. He certainly still _looks_ like death warmed over. But he smells of water, of flowers, of tiny growing things, and Kaitou finds himself relaxing despite himself.

"That's it." Yuusuke stands up slowly, every move carefully made. Walking to Kenzaki's side, he touches his bowed head, causing him to unwind from his tight ball; a feather touch on the female Grongi's back has similar results. "You're all fine. But it's likely to happen again. You can stay here, try to ride out the storm as best you can, or you can come with me."

"Come where?" Kenzaki stands as he says it, walking to Yuusuke's side. It's clear that he already intends to follow.

The Grongi says something in her own tongue as she stands. Whatever it is makes Yuusuke smile, so it's probably her way of volunteering.

Which leaves Yuusuke staring at him, expectant. Looking at him, _through_ him with eyes that are a dark, sapphire blue, and that shouldn't be so disconcerting.

"Will you help me save the worlds, Kaitou?"

Shaking his head slowly, he tries to smile like it doesn't matter. "I don't do the hero thing, Yuusuke."

"You did, once." Yuusuke tries to take a step toward him and sways, but both the Grongi and the Undead are there to catch him, giving him shoulders to lean on.

"I didn't help save any worlds. I helped save Tsukasa. Big difference." He shrugs. "Might have been a mistake, anyway."

"That's not…" Sighing, Yuusuke rubs at his blood-matted hair with his right hand. Never moving his left, but how long can he keep functioning like that? "I can't force you, Kaitou. Wouldn't want to, anyway. Take care of yourself, all right?"

It's a goodbye. A goodbye and a well-wish, from someone who doesn't ever expect to see him again. They're all going to leave him here, alone, and none of them are planning on coming back.

Yuusuke reaches out with his right hand, fingers splayed, and gently opens a door between worlds. Putting his arm back around the Grongi, he leans on her as they limp through the portal.

He doesn't want to go. He doesn't believe in heroism and self-sacrifice and all that jazz. It isn't even Yuusuke that's asking him, anyway.

But Yuusuke's his. A treasure. A hero, through to his core, willing to forgive every betrayal Tsukasa ever threw at him with barely a faltering step.

And Kaitou doesn't let his treasures get away from him that easily.

"Damn all three of you, anyway." With a frustrated sigh he runs for the bridge, making it through just before the portal closes.

Falling in behind the others, he decides he won't make any comment on the fact that Yuusuke kept the bridge open longer than was really necessary.


	16. Part Fifteen: The BloodDimmed Tide

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these worlds. I just love playing with them.

**Author's Notes:** There are lots of spoilers for Blade in this, and some for Faiz and Kuuga, as well as allusions to all the Heisei Rider worlds (though probably no spoilers if you don't know what world's being alluded to). It's also really really long. Enjoy!

_Part Fifteen: The Blood-Dimmed Tide_

The world that Yuusuke brings them to is dark. Rain clouds hang low and heavy in the sky, diffusing the light of the sun and giving everything a washed-out appearance.

"They'll be coming soon." Yuusuke stares up and down the street before walking slowly forward. "Kaitou, save the humans. They're important. Kenzaki, help Takumi. They've already been through a lot."

Kaitou gives Yuusuke a dubious look. "And you?"

"I'm going to keep his power away from you. Give you the chance to stop most of the madness from happening." Yuusuke's knees buckle, but the Grongi keeps him upright until he can get his feet back under him. "Ready?"

No, they're not ready, because they still don't really know what's going on, but there's no more time to ask questions. Two humans come racing around the corner, stumbling and panting; three kaijin are hot on their heels.

"Henshin!"

It feels good to have Diend's armor on again. Good to hit things, after spending so much time trying to figure out how to fight problems that are way beyond his understanding. Good to just let loose and not worry about what's going to happen next, because all he needs to do is beat these pathetic kaijin.

Then one of the orphenoch slips through his defense, landing a solid blow against his chest that sends him flying backwards five or six meters, and he remembers why his favorite card is "Attack Ride: Invisible".

Rolling onto his side, he slots two of his summons cards into DienDriver. Let Ouja and Kickhopper deal with the obnoxious Orphenoch, then. It's always more fun to watch a fight, anyway.

The two humans scramble over to him, placing him between them and the orphenoch as he stands. The woman's hand wraps around his left arm, leaving his right arm with Diend free to move. Not as dumb as she could be, then, though he doesn't really appreciate being grabbed either way.

"You're a Rider?" Her eyes flick back down the street, to where Kenzaki in his Joker form and a wolf orphenoch are holding off another batch of attacking kaijin. "Are you human? Orphenoch? Whose side are you on?"

"I tend not to take sides." Shrugging her hand off his arm, he waves Diend toward where Yuusuke's standing, still supported by the female Grongi. "Though if I had to choose, guess I'd choose his. For now."

"Whose?" The woman looks toward Yuusuke, but her eyes don't pause on him. Maybe a flicker, just a faint catch, but no actual recognition that there's someone standing there.

Looking hard at Yuusuke, he can feel the power radiating off the man again. Calm, cool, determined, water against the rock walls of reality, and he will find a way to save this world. To save _all_ worlds, and all people, because that's the kind of person Yuusuke was, and it bleeds over into this avatar of a god that he's become.

But the Man in Black fights him. A dark force, stalking through this battle, inciting more violence, more destruction, more frustration, and he has worked hard to get to this point. He will not lose. Chaos will claim this world, oozes from him in eccentric waves, clashes with the power from Yuusuke, and Kaitou tears his eyes away.

He can't watch it. He can't take in what Yuusuke's doing, the battle happening on a level far beyond him, and that's really, really annoying.

The woman's still looking at him, and his Ouja summons has faded, torn apart by an orphenoch that looks suspiciously like it might have a sea cucumber for a base. Sighing, he summons Raia and Gai to join in the fight. Ryuki riders were meant to be cannon fodder, anyway. "I'm guessing the wolf guy's still Takumi? Faiz?"

The woman hesitates before nodding, a defiant tilt to her head. "Yes. Why?"

"Just making sure we're in the right place, saving the right people." One of the orphenoch breaks away from his summons, charging toward them, antlers lowered. Aiming lazily with Diend, he shoots at the kaijin until the Raia summons figures out what it's supposed to be doing and tackles the orphenoch again. "Apparently the survival of the multiverse might depend on this. Or something. Say, there aren't any belts in this world that _don't_ end up having significant side effects like death if you're a non-Orphenoch, are there?"

If he's going to end up saving the world, he better get some kind of treasure out of it.

XXX

"You weren't here." The Man in Black circles them, head tilted to one side. "This isn't how things went, is it?"

"No." Talking hurts; moving hurts; simply standing hurts. But he will not let this creature win, not when he has a chance to set things right. "But you should not have been here. You had no right to be interfering. So consider it even. Your forces against ours."

"A thief and two monsters? That's your 'forces'?" The Man in Black chuckles, a low, threatening sound. "You can barely stay on your feet. Your avatar is dying, little god. Why not give up now? Make this simple for everyone?"

The creature's power flows out from it, trying to permeate the immediate environment. Trying to draw forth fear, trying to drown the rational and compassionate part of all the mortals in the vicinity within the terrifying madness of eternity, and it must not be allowed.

His own power matches the creature's, meeting darkness with light, the terror of loss and change with the certainty of hope and preservation. Keeping the monster at bay, though it's hard in this place. This world is one of the dark ones, one of the ones that senses the powers of the Man in Black on a regular basis and is well-primed to dance to his tune. That's why they chose it as the first one, when they will be at their strongest, because every bit of energy he throws into this battle shaves seconds off the life of this host.

Not that this host minds. The scattered remnants of this host's thoughts, the bruised scraps of his soul accept what will happen. They will save the worlds, and one hero's life will be fair payment for all those who will have a second chance.

Left hand still holding this host's body together, his power letting nerves that are severed or otherwise badly damaged by the removal of the amadam continue to function, he turns their full attention to blocking the influence of the Man in Black.

"A thief, two monsters, and the belief that people will choose life over death, order over chaos, purpose over pointlessness if given the chance. A belief in human nature, and the good that lies in all things." He smiles, serene and certain. They can do this. "That's all I _need_ to stop you, chaos. So yes, that's all I bring."

They clash, in ways that the mortals around them can't see, can't grasp, the fundamental forces of the universe twining around each other.

The others will call him when they're done, telling him that it's time to move on to the next world.

XXX

"Inui!" Kenzaki charges into the center of the writhing pile of orphenoch, Joker's power rising all too readily to the surface. He needs it, though. Since they took Blade's belt from him when he was captured, the kaijin's form is all he has to fight with.

Inui Takumi rises with a deep-throated growl, tossing the last Orphenoch away from him. The kaijin's nose twitches. "Kenzaki? That you?"

"Yeah." Falling in behind Takumi, he snarls his own battle challenge at the circling orphenoch. "What's happening?"

"They're after my friends." Takumi's teeth close tight on the arm of a feathered orphenoch that has slipped in too close. Ripping its limb free, the orphenoch backs off a few steps, giving them a little bit of breathing room as the kaijin regroup. "They took the Faiz belt. They're trying to start another Orphenoch rebellion. They want me to join them."

Short, succinct, and entirely wrong. Entirely impossible, because these events happened weeks ago. "Those people… those are Mari and Keitarou, aren't they?"

"Yeah." Takumi stays crouched low, snarling, growling, snapping when an orphenoch gets too close. "Who's the new guy? Someone trustworthy?"

_They killed my friends. Mari and Keitarou. Slaughtered them, just like they slaughtered any other human they thought stood in the way of the orphenoch, and I couldn't stop them. Just like I couldn't stop the humans from killing the orphenoch, once everything started. There's no point anymore, Kenzaki. We lose._

Takumi's voice rings in his ears, and he can picture the man so clearly in his mind. Sprawled on a hillside, staring at the light of a setting sun, and his face is impassive. Untouchable, broken, and God, are they really getting a chance to stop all that? Are they really getting a chance to undo most of the horror that's been done?

"Kaitou!" He screams at the other Rider, waiting for the slight tilt of his head that says he's gotten the man's attention. "Don't you dare let them die!"

One of the orphenoch circling them hisses, reptilian teeth showing clearly as it opens its mouth. "Inui-san, they're human. Not like us. They can't understand. They might become like us, when we kill them, but right now they're a liability. A danger. Because we need you."

"What we need is to learn to work with them." Takumi snaps again at a limb that gets too close to him, swipes with one clawed hand at another orphenoch. "We were human. We still are, really."

"They fear us." The female voice comes from the largest of them, a creature that might have some kindred spirit with an elephant. "They hate us. There can be no coexistence. We need freedom to grow. Freedom to explore. Freedom to experiment, to find ways to save ourselves, and they won't give us that."

"We can look for ways to prevent our degeneration whether we rule the world or not." Takumi growls, frustration clear. "What do you think I've been doing? I don't want the Orphenoch to just lie down and die. And not all humans want us to die, either. Keitarou and Mari have been helping me."

"Liar." The elephant charges them, scattering the circle for a moment. It regroups too quickly to make use of the attack, though. "They'll always hate us. If they seem to be helping you, it's because they're afraid of you."

It's getting harder and harder to maintain control of Joker's destructive desire. There's too much rage and despair in the air. "Inui, what are we doing? Eliminating them?"

"I don't want to." Takumi dodges a blow from one of the orphenoch. "I want to help _both_ sides! Why—"

"If you want to help them, we won't kill them." Kenzaki's tongue gets caught in his teeth as he speaks, blood gushing abruptly into his mouth. It tastes wonderful, salty, sweet, liquid bliss, and he almost turns on Inui. He stops his claws from sinking into the other man by scant centimeters, panting hard as he regains control.

"Kenzaki?" Takumi tries to watch him now, too, which isn't good. It leaves him vulnerable, trying to guard all his sides at once, and the lizard orphenoch takes advantage of that fact. He wields two swords, the right one slipping inside Takumi's uncertain guard to slam against his knee. When the wolf orphenoch falls, the second blade slips in, slamming against an armored chest and earning a grunt of pain from the man.

No. Screaming, a vicious sound torn from deep inside him, he throws himself at the kaijin. He won't let anything happen to Takumi. He won't lose this chance to save this world.

Especially not when it feels so good. Not when it feels absolutely _wonderful_, his claws sinking into the orphenoch's skin easily. Orphenoch blood tastes like fire, better than anything he's had before, and he bites harder, deeper, wrenching the creature's head to the side to expose its neck for him.

He'll save Takumi, and he'll enjoy every second of it.

XXX

He's losing.

It's because he's trying to fight this battle defensively, to protect both himself and Ra-Baruba-De, to hurt this avatar as little as possible.

Human weakness, human kindness, and he quests inside himself, trying to determine what the best course of action will be.

_Save them._

It's the core of this host. The primary motivation now, at the end of all things. The one thing he can cling to, when everything else is stripped away. He has become the man Yashiro wanted him to be, the man Tsukasa needs him to be, the one _he_ wants to be. A man who can kneel in front of a boy who wants to be human despite the monster blood flowing in his veins, and forgive him for trying to eat his soul; a man who can stand against the Destroyer of Worlds, and die with Tsukasa, for Tsukasa, and still try with all his heart to bring him back.

_Save everyone._

There's really no question about what to do. Taking his arm from around the Grongi, he calls a sword to one hand, a mace to the other. He throws all of himself into the battle, all that he could be and that this host is, dark armor and deep blue eyes, because the cost of failure would be too high.

The power of creation will keep this body functioning until he is done.

They'll just have to endure the pain until then.

XXX

He should kill them.

They're just kaijin. They kill kaijin in pretty much every world they go to, and these are even being nice and upfront about being evil, what with hunting down and trying to kill humans.

But for some reason he doesn't really want to, and his summons respond to his uncertainty by being even more pathetic and useless than usual.

"Yuusuke!" He doesn't bother trying to look for the man. One headache a day is enough for him. "What the hell are we actually trying to accomplish here?"

"Whatever Inui Takumi wants. It's his world."

He hadn't really expected an answer from Yuusuke. He certainly hadn't thought it would sound like the man was standing right next to him when there's clearly no one there.

"Right. Takumi! What are we doing?"

Takumi's only answer is a feral growl, and he looks over to find Kenzaki's kaijin form tousling on the ground with Takumi's orphenoch form.

"Great. Yuusuke, I think there might be a problem with your plan."

Raising his head, Takumi glares at him. "Don't kill anyone. Human, orphenoch… right now I don't want anyone to die—arr!"

Kenzaki's teeth sink deep into Takumi's arm, and the orphenoch turns his full attention back to the fight.

"Of course." Shrugging, Kaitou looks back at the two humans still using him as a shield. "Guess I'm your babysitter until they figure out what we're doing."

XXX

He's fighting the wrong person.

Something in him is vaguely aware of that, and he struggles to get control of Joker back. He likes Takumi. Blade, Kiva and Faiz, the three Riders who are also monsters. It had given them something in common as well as setting them somewhat apart from the others—well, except from Hibiki, but Hibiki had been set apart from most of them just because of his age.

He's getting distracted again, human mind hiding from the ravening savagery of Joker, and that's not what he needs to do. He needs to be in control, because he's not helping anyone right now, but it's so hard. This world resonates with Joker, pulls all of his worst traits to the surface, and there doesn't seem to be anything he can do to stop it.

"Kenzaki!" Takumi's claws scrape along his back, but it's hard to get through Joker's armor. "This isn't like you. Think for a minute. Slow down. Breathe. Just… stop trying to kill everything. Please."

It's the Man in Black's power. He can feel it permeating everything, feel it seeping from the orphenoch surrounding them, and it both infuriates and terrifies him. Joker's response to both those emotions is bloodshed—actually his response to most emotions, but especially to those two.

"You are on our side, then." It's the same reptilian orphenoch who spoke initially.

"You want to help us." The elephant orphenoch frowns in confusion. "You protect us. Why go to such lengths to protect us? To protect both us and the humans?"

"Because we can live together. Because we both deserve a chance. Because I don't want to die and I don't want them to die." Takumi breaks away from their battle, bleeding in a half-dozen places.

It takes all Kenzaki's will to keep from immediately charging the other man, but he manages.

"Please. Whoever told you this was the best way to go about helping our people, they're wrong." Takumi's orphenoch form falls away, replaced by a tired, bloody young man. "I've seen this before. I've been down this exact same road before, and it doesn't save anyone. Good people just end up hurt on both sides."

They're listening to him. Confusion spreads through the group, starting with their two spokesmen and moving outward.

The elephant orphenoch shakes her head. "We just… he said… he who? What are we _doing_?"

Yuusuke's power. Vishnu's power. Whatever it is, it bleeds through the power of the Man in Black, a light that Kenzaki can hold on to in order to help him keep his sanity. A light that touches the orphenoch around them, that gleams from Takumi as he talks, and they're winning.

No thanks to him, but they're winning, and as long as he doesn't lose control again, things will turn out all right.

"Let my friends go. I'll come talk with you. I'll help you in any way I can, but I won't kill for you. I won't let you use Faiz to kill people." Takumi wipes at his bloody nose. "It's the best offer you're going to get."

The orphenoch clump together, the group that had been attacking Kaitou and the humans drifting over to join the group that had been attacking Takumi. They look scared, confused, and the same emotions permeate their scent, drawing Joker's power again.

Finally the elephant orphenoch nods, shifting back to her human disguise and holding out a hand to Takumi. "All right, Inui-san."

XXX

"Well done, Inui Takumi." Yuusuke simply appears in the middle of the road, swaying uncertainly, left hand pressed to the wound in his gut. It should be a frightening sight. It should make everything just that much worse, seeing Yuusuke hurt and weak.

But he doesn't seem weak. Power still flows out of him, a sense of calm and certainty, and the smell of blood and fear dissipates as he walks toward them despite the fact that Yuusuke's got fresh blood on his face.

Takumi takes a step back, watching Yuusuke warily. "You're one of Decade's friends."

"Yes." Yuusuke stops. "I was—am—one of Tsukasa's friends. But we're here to help you."

"How did you manage this?" Kenzaki seems to have his kaijin under control again, his human form firmly in place. "This all happened—"

"He's trying to take reality apart at the seams. To unmake the universe." Shrugging, Yuusuke gives a brief, bright smile. "You felt it, before. That weakening of creation means that Time isn't quite as binding as it usually would be."

"So when you said save the worlds, you meant save the Riders." Allowing Diend's armor to drop, Kaitou moves toward Yuusuke. "Maybe you could have specified that, because I'm not terribly fond of most of these guys."

Yuusuke winces, left hand clenching down tighter. "It's not their fault. They didn't make the rules that hurt you, Kaitou."

Shooting a glare at Kenzaki and Takumi, the thief debates moving to Yuusuke's side, trying to find a way to touch him and support him without hurting him more. "They didn't hurt me. I just don't like them."

The Grongi goes to Yuusuke, slipping his arm around her shoulders again.

Yuusuke smiles gratefully at her before turning those inhuman blue eyes back to Kaitou. "I can act where the Man in Black acted. He targeted the Riders, was using them to help bring about destruction. I won't make you help, Daiki. But I'd like you to be here."

It isn't really much of a choice. He almost shivers, remembering the dark of chaos lapping against him, bleeding from wherever Tsukasa and Natsumi dragged the creature. The idea of going through that and then having no one there… not that he needs anyone there. But something has to be done, that much is obvious. And at least with Yuusuke he isn't helpless. "So. Where to next?"

XXX

They move quickly after that, dancing through time and space, following Yuusuke blindly from one world to another. Usually Yuusuke fights the Man in Black, giving the rest of them a chance to follow whatever his orders are.

In one world, an unending desert, Ra-Baruba-De talks with a young man, grief more their common language than anything else.

In another, Kenzaki stops his friend from killing a man, taking the Fangire's stingers in his own immortal body.

Another world, and Yuusuke doesn't fight. He talks with a young man and woman, smiles at them, and they take each other's hands and disappear in a reflected glint of sunlight.

A hard world, a dark world, and Yuusuke separates them. Kaitou saves Hikawa Makoto from dying at the hands of an Agito; Kenzaki and Ra-Baruba-De find themselves part of a closed-door political debate on what to do with the Agito. They're not actually sure they've made any progress with the politicians when Yuusuke pulls them away, but he seems certain the world's safe, so they press onward.

Another, and Yuusuke paces a room full of monsters, a quiet, liquid counterpoint to the Man in Black's heady darkness as the kaijin discuss destroying all humans. To Kaitou's eyes it doesn't seem that anything's resolved when they leave, the Man in Black with a vicious snarl that brings blood to his ears and terror to his heart, but Yuusuke just smiles and nods toward one of the kaijin before urging them on.

A world with an older version of Asumu, and Kaitou would dearly love to kill the people who tried to blow up the restaurant where the boy works, but Yuusuke has Kenzaki talk to them instead.

The next world they step into is quiet, brightly lit, and Kaitou has to blink a few times before anything actually comes into focus. That's all right, though, because nothing seems to be trying to kill them here.

"No." Yuusuke smiles, looking far too pale, practically hanging off Ra-Baruba-De's arm. "Not in this world. The Man in Black couldn't make this world that bad. It doesn't dance to the tune he plays."

They're in a hospital, or something close enough to one. Medical equipment crowds against the far wall. A heart rate monitor, an IV, and a couple other things that are printing out information Kaitou doesn't understand are all hooked up to an unconscious man who's tied to a bed.

_Extremely_ well tied down, his ankles bound together and then bound to the bed, straps around his hips, his knees, his chest, his abdomen, around both arms, around both wrists, around his head… someone's afraid of this man, despite the fact that he seems to be in a coma. There's no bedside table, the window is barred on both sides, and a quick glance out the tiny window in the door shows the back of uniforms and something that looks suspiciously like the barrel of a machine gun in one of the guard's arms.

Yuusuke shrugs, smile becoming more rueful as Kaitou turns back to him. "All right, so it could still be dangerous. But not as bad as other worlds. Not by a long shot."

The Grongi's eyes are fixed on the unconscious man. "Godai Yuusuke."

"Yes." Yuusuke's right hand tightens on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. But he's important, and we need—"

"Do what you have to, Yuusuke." Her voice is quiet, her tone almost serene as she continues to stare at the man strapped to the bed. "My battle in this world ended before I even knew you."

"Kaitou." Yuusuke gestures with his head toward the unconscious man. "If you could… no."

"No?" Sighing deeply, he taps Diend against his shoulder. "Do you want me to untie him or not?"

"I can do this." Yuusuke seems to be talking to himself, head down against his chest. "His power's so weak in this world already… I can do this. I'm an avatar. Free to act."

He almost falls when he takes his arm from around the Grongi. She doesn't move to steady him, either, simply flicking a glance at him before turning her full attention toward the unconscious man in the bed. Kenzaki moves forward, intending to help, but Yuusuke waves him back, takes a deep breath, and straightens.

"I can save him." Panting for breath, Yuusuke takes the few steps to the side of the bed. "My part of the fight."

Shaking his head, Kaitou turns his attention to the door, watching closely to make sure the guards don't decide to come check things out before Yuusuke figures out what he's going to do.

XXX

Godai Yuusuke.

He knows this man. They met once, in the time after the War but before Tsukasa came back. Godai was the one who told him what happened to Tsukasa and the others after he died, apologized for what had been done by the other Riders, and helped him get to Natsumi so they could bring Tsukasa back. It had been a brief meeting but a good one, and he'd been curious to learn more about this man who shares his name and his symbiote and conflicting bits of his life. The man who has the same soul as a base, but different edifices built upon it.

He knows this man more clearly, now. Knows the battle that Godai went through, has seen most of it play out in his mind. Thanks to the Man in Black he has had his mind torn apart by the stories of this man and a dozen others like him, Kuuga from across the multiverse. He has _been_ Godai, fighting the monsters with Ichijou at his side. He has stood on a mountaintop and traded blows with N-Daguva-Zeba, crying though the tears freeze, aching inside for so many reasons…

A single drop of blood slides down Godai's arm when he removes the catheter, Kuuga's abilities kicking in to heal the small injury a second later. He'll wake up soon, the drugs they're using to keep him unconscious wiped from his system thanks to Kuuga's healing ability.

Kuuga. He almost collapses, the hole inside him suddenly at the forefront of his thoughts. His symbiote, the power he used as best he could, but in the end he still failed. When he was tested, he let the darkness claim him, defile Kuuga, and—

Vishnu's power rushes out of him, brushing back the lingering presence of the Man in Black, soothing his pain to the point that it's bearable. He's not to blame for what happened. It's easy to remember, basking in Vishnu's light. If he were going to live, he would be worried about how he's going to manage without that, but Natsumi's made sure that won't be a problem.

"Onodera-kun?" Godai's voice is rough and husky, after so long without use. "What's…"

"I'll have you free in a minute." The fingers of his right hand aren't enough to undo the clasps on the restraints holding Godai down, so he brings his left hand up to help. It's hard to get his fingers to unclench, but he manages. Leaving trails of blood behind on Godai's skin and hospital gown, he starts by releasing the restraints around his head and works his way down. "You'll need to talk with people, once you're free. Ichijou's been working on getting you released ever since they let him go. It shouldn't be too hard to convince them you're not a threat. His influence in this world was never very strong, anyway."

"The Man in Black." Godai's right hand moves as soon as it's free, trying to undo the clasps around his left hand. He's still too weak, though, and Yuusuke gently shoves his fingers away.

"Yes." Both the man's hands are free now, and he has to move a step back to start working on the rest of the straps. His teeth clench tight at the pain, but he doesn't let it slow him down. "It'll be over soon, though. I promise."

"Onodera…" Godai's hand moves to cover his left one, and there are tears in the man's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Smiling, he clenches Godai's fingers between his bloody ones. "There's nothing you did to be sorry for. At any time. You always tried to help everyone, and you always stayed true to yourself. I don't think I could have done what you did, facing Daguva. You're the right kind of person to have Kuuga."

"You're just as good as me, Onodera." Godai's trying to hug him, a process that's hindered by his weakness, his inability to get his muscles to work the way he wants them to. He needs more time to heal, something that Yuusuke had been counting on when he decided to free him.

"I gave into it. I gave him even more power, let the Ultimate Darkness out, and—"

"You're here. You're helping me. You let someone… you let…" Godai's hand falls back, covers Yuusuke's fingers where they're pressed against Godai's stomach above his amadam.

Yuusuke tries to pull his hand away, ashamed. He hadn't meant to do that; he hadn't even realized he was doing it, drawn to Kuuga's power. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"It's all right, Onodera." Godai's grip is growing stronger with every second, and though he knows he _should_, knows he needs to keep working and run on to the next world, Yuusuke doesn't want to pull away. "Whatever happened, whatever he did to you, it's all right. And don't… even if you did give in, it's all right. You're here now. You came back. And I know how tempting it can be to give into that darkness."

Yes. Godai knows, because he danced with the dark, finding ways to harness it, ways to use it without losing himself. "Vishnu should have chosen you."

Vishnu _has_ chosen him, in this world that loves light and understands preservation on a fundamental level. A wanderer, an agent of change, and yet he brings hope, brings brightness, brings peace and acceptance with him wherever he goes.

"You are me, Onodera." Godai places a hand against his face, gently, continuing to hold his bloody left hand with the other. "My soul, in a different world. An even harder world, maybe. Certainly lonelier than I had to be. Besides, if you were chosen by _this_..."

Godai's fingers wrap around a strand of Vishnu's power, tease it into being light that burns bright for a moment before disappearing.

"Then I'm sure you're what's needed."

He tilts his head away from Godai's fingers, though they chase after him, keeping contact with his skin. "Vishnu goes with Shiva. And they made Tsukasa Shiva."

"Then you're supposed to be Vishnu." Godai grins, pleased with himself, certain that he's right. "And I'm sure you're doing fine."

"I'm scared." The words are blurted out before he even knows he intended to say them.

Godai's expression turns somber, deadly serious, a side to him that he doesn't let most people see. There's too much grimness in the world—worlds—already without them adding to it. "I know."

"I don't want…" To die. To lose himself, body falling away, what's left of his soul becoming just another shadow for Vishnu.

"Then don't."

Godai says it simply, but it's not that easy. He shouldn't be alive right now, anyway. He shouldn't be able to move, shouldn't be able to think, just because of the damage done by ripping Kuuga out of him. Add in the creeping numbness, the overwhelming terror from _before_, the nightmare that Vishnu's light holds back… He's dead, one way or another. It's just what he dies for, and how he dies, and the path he's on right now is the best one he can hope for.

"Onodera?" Godai pulls his head up, is supporting most of his weight, and that isn't right. Godai's still recovering himself, both from what's been done to him here and from holding back the dark nothingness of the end of all things.

Though he won't remember that, the power of the Man in Black flowing to all the Grongi in all the worlds, won't ever have to remember that if they do things right. If Tsukasa and Natsumi seal the creature, and he does his job well, they'll save the worlds, and the only price they'll pay is their souls.

"Yuusuke, I can get a doctor who knows about—"

"I have to go." Straightening, he lets his left hand go back to his stomach, cradling the injury that still hurts the most. "And you have to stay. To keep this world stable, the way it's supposed to be. Vishnu's power here. All right?"

Godai starts fumbling at the straps around his legs, the ones Yuusuke was too distracted to release. It's clear from the expression on his face that he's not going to listen.

Limping back to Ra-Baruba-De, he puts his arm around the Grongi.

"Godai Yuusuke."

She speaks softly, but Godai still freezes at the words, head snapping up. "You. B1. The woman with the rose tattoo. Why can't I—"

"You can, if you stop worrying about what you _aren't_ sensing from him. I'm still Grongi, for the little bit longer that my people last."

Godai watches her, not blinking, as his fingers continue to work at the straps around his legs. "Ichijou killed you."

"The Linto who always followed you. The marksman." She smiles, expression softening. "He survived the end, then."

"Yes." Godai has one foot free.

"It would pain him to tell him that he would have made a good Grongi." Ra-Baruba-De's head tilts forward, hair sliding off her neck to cover her features. "Tell him… I am glad that Linto such as he exist. And I do not begrudge the way the gegeru went. Not anymore."

Godai's mouth quirks up into a half-smile. "All that just for Ichijou?"

"He and I… had an understanding, I think. In the end. He was for me what Daguva was for you, the reflection of what you could have been if born into a different place."

Godai wants to say he's nothing like Daguva. He wants to so badly, even now, but he's too honest to do that. He nods, so very serious, and moves to stand up, both legs free. "And now?"

"Now I go with him." Ra-Baruba-De holds him tightly, supporting his weight with ease. "To undo what I have done. The last of the Grongi does not want creation to die with her people."

"Let me help you. Let me help _him_." Godai stands unsteadily, wobbling for a moment before sitting back down on the bed. "Just—"

"Ichijou followed you to Daguva, yes?"

Godai nods reluctantly.

"But not into the fight. Though he would have loved to, that was not his place." She speaks almost gently to him. Certainly with respect, and Yuusuke allows his head to rest against her shoulder, his eyes to drift closed. "And your place is not by Yuusuke's side. It is here, protecting this world, as he tells you. This is his battle with Daguva, one in which you cannot assist."

"He's so…"

"He's not so young as he looks. And though it is battered, he has your heart and your soul." The Grongi's vines wrap around his stomach, form a latticework bandage around the injury there. It feels right, feels good, resonates strongly with Vishnu's power, and he sighs in relief. "Trust him."

"I do." The creak of the bed says Godai has shifted position.

Forcing his eyes open, Yuusuke smiles at the older man. "It'll be all right. I promise. I'll protect everything."

Godai smiles at him. "I know you will. And when it's all over, I'll come find you. _I_ promise. So hold on, all right?"

Raising his right hand off Ra-Baruba-De's shoulder, Yuusuke gives a tired thumbs-up. It's easier than talking, easier than trying to explain and force the man to understand. He doesn't _want_ to force the other man to understand, anyway. Accepting what will come has never been a part of his personality—of their personality.

Godai returns the thumbs up, smiling even though there are tears in his eyes again.

Letting Vishnu's power rise to the surface, he opens a bridge between worlds. A bridge between times and possibilities, stretching to where the Man in Black is, seeking to push his direct influence out of all the worlds. Close, so close, and Vishnu's essence soothes him, comforts him as they fight once more against the power of absolute emptiness.

Just two more stops before he can rest.

XXX

He knows this place.

He saw it just once, not very clearly, but every detail of that video immediately burned itself into his mind. The white-washed walls, clean, pristine, devoid of life. The floor, simple tiles in muted tans and browns. The swirling pattern of the ceiling.

The gallows, looking like something out of a TV shoot, too short and squat to seem quite real.

Too short to work properly, and Joker's power boils to the surface as he bears his teeth in a feral snarl, remembering what happened here.

"Your world, Kenzaki." Yuusuke's words are starting to slur together, exhaustion tingeing every sound, every move he makes. "You know what needs to be done here."

Oh, yes, he knows. He knows that the people who hurt him are here, the people who tried to destroy everything, the people it's all right to hurt, and he will—

Yuusuke whimpers, a soft, lost sound as he doubles over, left hand pressing against the vines that are wrapped from the Grongi's left hand around his abdomen. The Man in Black stands in front of him, smiling that vicious, cruel, enigmatic smile that Kenzaki hates so very much.

_You know what needs to be done._

Yuusuke's voice, ringing through his mind, and he knows he's doing something wrong. Taking a deep breath he's able to get enough control to shove Joker's form aside for a few minutes longer. He does know what needs to be done here. What he remembers hasn't happened, won't ever have to happen if they succeed.

The people he'd dearly love to tear limb from limb are planning on taping this, broadcasting it live. The solution in this world's almost too easy, if he trusts himself to hold his temper and his control of Joker long enough to do it.

Yuusuke straightens, smiling at him and nodding before turning his deep blue eyes to the Man in Black. A sword appears in his hand, shining an opalescent white, surface seeming to shift and shimmer like water. The Grongi's vines pull away from him, the woman taking a step back. This is Yuusuke's battle, as always. Left hand going to its usual place, covering the gaping wound in his gut, he raises the sword and charges silently at the Man in Black.

Kenzaki doesn't bother watching after that. Whatever happens when those two clash, it's something mortal eyes can't follow. No one from this world will notice them, and even if he tries to watch the fight all he'll get is a splitting headache and utter confusion.

"Kaitou."

The man's blue helmet turns toward him.

"We need to hide, fast. Way I see it, a thief ought to be pretty good at being inconspicuous."

There's no way for facial expression to show through a Rider's armor, but Kenzaki still gets the distinct impression that Kaitou's grinning as he stalks toward him.

XXX

He doesn't move.

The thief left him in front of the gallows, three steps to the right of the stairs, and told him not to move if he wanted the effects to last. He'd wondered if he was making a mistake when the man leveled his strange gun at him, but the shot had encased him in energy that tingled but didn't hurt.

Now it's just a matter of waiting. They don't have long to do that, either, the scuff of footsteps sounding in the hall before thirty seconds have passed. Yuusuke usually gives them just enough time to do what they need to do.

Tachibana smells like an Undead. It's faint now, after so many years, but Garren's ace has left an unmistakable taint to the human's scent. Combined with the iron stench of blood, the sharp tang of adrenaline and the dull leaden scent of despair, it calls to something deep inside him. All of Joker's instincts scream at him to attack now, while the enemy is weak. It's all he can do to bite back a guttural snarl.

This is a mistake. He can't do this. He can't face these people, with only Joker's power to call on, and end this without bloodshed. Not when his first reaction to seeing one of his best friends injured is a desire to kill him.

If he stays still, Kaitou will act. Or Yuusuke will send his Grongi shadow to act. Or maybe Yuusuke himself will act, break off from his battle with the Man in Black long enough to keep someone who doesn't deserve to from dying.

They're herding Tachibana toward the gallows, shoving him so that he stumbles despite the fact that he's already limping slowly forward.

"Traitor. Murderer." One of them shoves his shoulder again, and he'll fall now. The one with the camera follows the whole thing, showing the pain flash across Tachibana's face as he lands on his bound hands. He stays crouched on the floor, breathing heavily, until another one grabs him by the bloodied collar of his shirt and hauls him back upright.

It would be different if he had the Blade belt. If he could at least use something besides Joker's form, but with a good half-dozen armed opponents in the room Joker's power will be needed.

Plus half the point is using his kaijin form, showing the world that he's not a monster, but that plan doesn't work if he really _is_ a monster.

_Is Hajime a monster?_ The question forms in his mind, crystal-clear, a moment of lucidity in the spreading panic and doubt.

_Of course not!_ He almost snarls his response out loud, catching himself barely in time.

_Then there's your answer._ The voice—Yuusuke's voice, but more than that, so much more despite the exhaustion in it—fades entirely.

Hajime is far from being a monster. He worked so hard to keep the Joker in check, even when it hurt him—harder than most people ever had to work at something. And in the end Hajime's desperation to be sealed, his brutal, selfless ruthlessness as he searched for a way to not end everything, had been the reason Kenzaki could push himself over the edge into being a Joker himself. There was as much humanity in Hajime as in anyone else on earth.

And if that's true of Hajime, who was never human in the first place, then it better damn well be true of Kenzaki Kazuma, as well.

They've driven Tachibana to the stairs, are forcing him up it at gun point. His foot slips on the second step, causing him to go down on one knee and eliciting another string of insults.

Or it did, the first time around.

This time he's there to catch Tachibana, knocking the closest guard away with a quick kick to the head. The sound of bullets being chambered and guns being cocked is a far too loud and far too familiar sound, and he fights Joker's urge to attack and his own urge to simply sigh as he positions himself between the madmen and Tachibana.

Only two of the rounds actually hit him, the others going wide. He can feel his Joker form flicker around himself as the pain crashes against his self-control. After everything else that's happened, though, and all the ways these people found to hurt him while he was their captive, this is easy to shrug off.

The cameraman stands uncertainly at the back, though he still has the camera pointed at them. Broadcasting this to a live audience, and Kenzaki stares into the lens, making sure his appearance is entirely human before attempting to talk. People have a hard enough time understanding him when Joker's form isn't making his words even more slurred.

"My name's Kenzaki Kazuma. The Kamen Rider who became Joker, one of the ones these people have been trying to warn you against." Pressing his hand against his shoulder, he allows his green blood to pool in his palm before opening his fingers and letting it drip down. "Let me show you how the monsters handle something like this."

Letting Joker's form rise to the surface, he stays where he is a moment more, protecting Tachibana from a second hail of bullets. His lips never cover his teeth in this form, so there's no need to worry that the people watching will think his feral snarl is a sign that he's going to lose control.

And he's _not_ going to lose control. He is the one who defies fate, the Undead who stands up to the Master and tries with all his might to destroy it. He is not a rampaging monster. He is not a killer.

Diend and the Grongi help him, attacking from the side. It takes them only a few seconds to disarm all the madmen, another few seconds to herd them all into a tight cluster.

The cameraman is the last man left standing, frozen in shock, his camera still held loosely on his shoulder. Stalking toward the man, Kenzaki draws a deep breath, shoving Joker's power away again. He doesn't need it, not for this part.

"Give me that."

Holding his hand out, he gently takes the camera from the trembling man. His fingers leave livid green streaks across the black casing, and he fumbles it for a moment trying to ensure that everything's the right side up, but he gets it pointing at their collection of huddled prisoners. Several sport bloody lips or noses, and a few may have broken bones in their arms, but no one's dead. No one's too badly injured, even. The Grongi circles their captives, guarding them as Kaitou leaps up onto the gallows and grabs the noose and its associated rope to use for bonds.

"This is what the remaining _monsters_ do in our world. We protect those who need protecting, because we have the power to. But we don't hurt anyone if we don't have to. We don't kill. We're human. Just as human as the rest of you."

"Kenzaki…?" Tachibana limps toward him slowly, a smile spreading across his face. His hands are still tied together at the wrist, but they reach out tentatively toward Kenzaki. There's dried blood on his neck, in his hair, probably on his clothes, though the black that he prefers helps to mask that. "Kenzaki, is it really…"

Kenzaki takes a step back, pulling himself away from the man who still smells too much like an injured Undead.

"Oh." Tachibana's face falls, hands dropping as much as they're able.

Kenzaki catches the other man before he falls, moving with Joker's inhuman speed as soon as Tachibana's knees start to buckle. "Tachibana-san, it's all right. I've got you."

Wonder fills the other Rider's expression as Tachibana looks at him. "It really is you. You're really here."

"Yeah." Placing the camera down on the ground, facing the prisoners, he sets about undoing the bonds around Tachibana's wrists. They come away caked with fresh blood, and he tries breathing through his mouth, hoping that will excite Joker less. It works, somewhat. "I'm here."

Tachibana laughs quietly. "Mutsuki kept insisting I'd never find you. Guess I just wasn't looking the right way."

"I told Hajime I had to go." He's fairly certain some of Tachibana's fingers are broken, and the man's fever-warm even through his clothes. "He should have understood and been able to explain it to you."

"He did." Tachibana leans heavily against him, resting his head on Kenzaki's shoulder. "But it's not true. You can come home. We'll find a way to defeat the Master. Mutsuki freed Shima-san and keeps talking about freeing his Queen, so even if you and Hajime end up fighting we'll have time to fix things. But you won't fight. I'm sure of it."

"Come home…" It's what he's wanted for years. What he kept telling himself he couldn't have, because Hajime deserved a chance at a human life, and two Jokers couldn't possibly coexist in close proximity.

But he can hold Tachibana now, Joker barely straining against his control. He can fight with Joker's power, draw blood without badly hurting anyone despite the Undead's body being meant only to kill. He can stand against the Man in Black's power, with all strengths but the kaijin monster stripped from him, and not hurt anyone.

He can still be the man who will defy fate, despite the loneliness of the last years, despite everything that happened with Tsukasa and Decade.

Yuusuke falls from thin air to land in front of him, landing on his knees and doubling over, left hand still wrapped around his stomach. His sword evaporates as he pants in a few ragged breaths and slowly straightens, but looking into his dark blue eyes is like staring into peace incarnate. "Well done, Kenzaki Kazuma."

Returning Yuusuke's smile, he tightens his grip on Tachibana. "Thank you. For making this possible."

"He never has the right to act alone. Where his influence is, ours should also be. A choice, for all of creation." Yuusuke tries to stand and fails, eyes closing for a moment.

Without those inhumanly blue eyes, that calm sense of power, the extent of the other Rider's injuries hits Kenzaki almost like a physical blow. He'd known that Yuusuke continuing to stand and lead them was a miracle, but he hadn't realized quite how much of a miracle it was.

"It's all right. Don't worry about it." Yuusuke smiles as he stands, slowly, this time managing to keep his feet under him. The Grongi woman appears at his side a moment later, slipping his arm around her shoulders and supporting him. "What I needed you for is done, Kazuma. You should stay here now."

"How…" He can't just stay here, almost a month in his own past.

Except… maybe it's not. The memories of watching Tachibana die are already fading, replaced by memories of a desperate search to find him before something horrible could happen.

"No." He takes a panicked step toward Yuusuke, dragging Tachibana with him. "Don't you dare make me forget! Please."

"You won't, if you don't want to." Yuusuke smiles, though it falters, pain flashing through his expression after a second. "But that's part of our winning. His influence never permeated this world. You never went through what you remember. You never had to meet me again."

Not having to remember watching Tachibana die, not having to remember the Man in Black, not having to remember being tortured, not having to remember that they almost destroyed everything, even if they were only trying to save it…

"You should go home, Kenzaki." Yuusuke speaks peacefully, serenely, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're never meant to be alone, anyway."

Kaitou cinches the rope he'd been tying around their captives tighter, earning a few disgruntled protests that he silences by lazily turning his gun on them. Standing, he strides over to Yuusuke, armor falling from him as he approaches the man. "Isn't this it? The last of the nine worlds?"

"Yes. But there's one more thing I have to do." The fingers of Yuusuke's right hand tighten on the shoulder of the Grongi woman. "Then… as long as they do their part… it's all over."

Tachibana straightens, supporting most of his own weight again. "I know I'm really behind on what's going on here, but if we can help—"

"You can." Yuusuke smiles at Tachibana, and Kenzaki can feel the change in the man's stance. A strengthening but also a relaxation of all his muscles, an easing of the pain from his face, and Tachibana stares at Yuusuke in slack-jawed wonder until Kenzaki elbows him. "You can both help by staying here. Being the light in this world. The ones who never give up. The ones who understand perseverance and preservation."

Tachibana nods slowly, shooting Kenzaki a look that says a long explanation is going to be requested very shortly.

"Blade's belt." Yuusuke turns those piercing blue eyes on him again, but there's less power and more humanity in them for the moment. "It's down the hall, second door on the left. You're the one who should have it. And Kazuma… I'm really glad we got to meet a second time. I think we could have been friends, if everything hadn't… if things had been different."

Yuusuke doesn't leave time for a response, throwing open the door between worlds and drawing his Grongi crutch through it as quickly as possible. Kaitou follows a second later, waving a jaunty goodbye.

Kenzaki almost charges after them. It feels wrong, to be left behind here, with something left undone. Wrong to let Yuusuke pay the price for their mistake, no matter how willing the man seems to be to do it.

But Tachibana's still holding onto him, using him as a support, and by the time he gets his shoulder out from under the man the doorway between worlds has already closed.

That's all right, though. He can travel between worlds on his own, and he'll catch up to Yuusuke once he's done what still needs to be done here. Reclaim Blade's belt, get Tachibana medical attention, ensure that their captives are taken into police custody… if he works quickly, it won't take too long.

Then he can go help Yuusuke finish things before finally, after all these years, getting to go home.


	17. Part Sixteen: Ceremony of Innocence

**Disclaimer:** Nobody who appears in this belongs to me (bonus points to anyone who can guess all the fandoms they come from).

**Author's Note:** Some discussion of potentially squicky medical things, I suppose? Those you've made it this far, so you know what's going on. More speculation on Kuuga. Enjoy!

_Part Sixteen: Ceremony of Innocence_

They dance.

It's the most beautiful, breathtaking, exhilarating, painful thing she has ever done.

They keep the battle to the spaces between worlds, though the darkness that was once the Man in Black strives again and again to break away from them and invade the true body of creation. They were made to combat this, though. Created from the shapelessness of the beginning light, given form and focus so that they could protect the world. Protect all worlds, just as they can destroy all worlds, because mortals know that creation and destruction must go together.

Must dance together, in fiery concert, and there are drumbeats to this dance. They come from everywhere and nowhere, the heartbeat of life, and her feet move in perfect time with them. Swords flashing, she bends and twists, leaps and bounds, containing the creature each time it strives to escape. Driving it ever back, binding it ever tighter, ever smaller, moving to meet her lover, her completion, the yang to her yin.

They will do this thing, this greatest of tasks, and maybe then the tears will stop falling from her eyes.

XXX

There is space for them now, in the world between.

She can still feel the power of the Man in Black, but it grows fainter with every beat of her heart, is drawn away from them.

"Last task." Yuusuke's legs go out from under him, and despite her best attempt at supporting him he doesn't seem able to rise again.

Gently lowering him to the ground, she strokes the hair away from his face. "I could kill you here. To prevent you from doing this thing."

He smiles at her, grasping her hand where it touches his head and holding it tight. "You could. But you won't."

"I should." The vines of her Grongi form quest out, sliding over his clothes and through his blood, though she still looks mostly human. "They would be an amazing force."

"It's not right, Ra-Baruba-De." He doesn't flinch as the vines crawl across the bloody gash in his gut. Though his left hand tries to keep it closed, things are starting to fall from the ugly wound. He will not last much longer.

Willing the vines to form a latticework around the injury again, she lowers her head. "I accept what has happened. I accept what will happen. But I do not accept that this is the way things had to go. My people can have a place in the worlds, Yuusuke. Vishnu. Creature of the cold fire, with whatever name you'd like to call yourself."

"That was what your people called it, wasn't it?" Yuusuke's hand strokes idly over the vines above his wound, his eyes drifting half-closed. "The cold fire. The lonely light. The beginning of all things."

"Yes."

"It's a good name for what we come from. As good a name as any. As true a story as any." He grins, something of the young Linto in the expression as his eyes open fully again. "Let us finish your story, Ra-Baruba-De. Call them."

"Me?" The vines tighten around him, earning a whimper of pain. She hesitates a few seconds before willing them to relax again. This kind of cruelty she had not expected. "Yuusuke, why—"

"I can't." His blue, blue eyes are sad as they stare at her. "Not on my own. I'm sorry."

"And if I refuse?"

He barely hesitates, but there is pain and something almost like despair in his expression as he shrugs. "Then I'll go to them one by one."

"You don't have the strength for that." Her vines writhe across him again, tempted to tighten, tempted to give pain, but she holds back. "And I could kill you if you tried."

"I'll do what I have to do." He says it calmly, utterly certain of himself once more. "I'm not going to leave anything undone. Daiki, don't!"

The other Linto man has his weapon pointed at her head. Frustration and fear infiltrate his scent, have his expression pulled down into a bitter grimace, and his finger twitches on the trigger. "She keeps threatening you, Yuusuke. I don't like it."

"I know." Yuusuke reaches for the thief, but the other man's too far away for him to touch. "But I believe in her. She won't kill me. Trust me, Ra-Baruba-De. Please."

"Isn't it enough that I helped you get to this point?" She strokes his hair, pushing it back from his pale, sweat-slicked face. "My debt to you is paid."

"You didn't owe me anything. You don't want everything to die. You don't want your people to die. It was your choice." He smiles at her, capturing her hand again. "I understand. I shouldn't have asked this of you. I'm sorry."

"When this is over, and all his work undone..." Closing her eyes, she draws a deep breath. "Will I be returned to that place? Will I be…"

"No." He braces both hands on the ground, slowly levering himself up into a sitting position. "You're alive, Ra-Baruba-De, and you'll stay that way. What you do with that life is your choice."

He tries to stand, hissing in pain, muscles trembling frantically. She can feel things shifting, inside him, pressing against the vines she uses to wrap his wound, and a gagging cough starts a trickle of blood running from his nose.

"Help him." The end of the weapon presses hard against her temple, shaking just faintly as the Linto moves to her side. "If you don't I swear I will blow your head off and figure out how to use the damned Grongi thing inside you myself."

"I am not someone you can threaten, Linto." Her hands rest lightly on both Yuusuke's shoulders, pressing him back down. He fights her for only a second before collapsing, eyes squeezed tightly shut against the pain. "But I will help you, Yuusuke."

"Don't have to." His eyes are still a deep blue, but she can see their natural color lurking behind. A rich, soft brown, so like and so unlike the eyes of Kuuga in her world. So hurt, so weary, and yet trying so desperately hard to help others. "My job. I'll do it. Send bridges. They'll come."

Yuusuke's chosen, Vishnu's people, the ones he trusted most to stand against the power of the Man in Black. The ones that are like Yuusuke, like Godai, who save the world, but not the ones who would make good Grongi.

Even if she stands against him now, her world is gone.

"Yes. They will come." Standing, she lets her Grongi form rise to the surface. She will do this thing in her true shape, as she is meant to be.

She can feel them easily in this place. Hundreds of them, thousands, spread throughout the worlds, and her mind touches each, using talent trained and strengthened by the Man in Black. It is wonderful, to have so many.

Yuusuke's hands rest against the vine bandage she has swathed him in. Power flows through him and into her, strengthening her touch on the Grongi to a true summons, though there should be nothing left for him to give.

They come within the span of seconds, drawn to her, drawn to Yuusuke, encircling them. They don't question, not here. The gravity of the situation is too great and too clear, the power bleeding from Yuusuke along with the last of his life too obvious.

"I used you." He says it calmly, and though there is sorrow there is no guilt in his voice. A voice that carries, in ways it should not, and it is clear that even those at the edge of the group can hear him. "To save all of creation, hands had to be chosen in the worlds. You all had something that called to me, something that resonates with me. My power spoke to you amidst the darkness, before the end began. And now, as all comes 'round again, I speak with you once more. You did well. You saved everything. But now you must return the power that was given. All it takes is your willingness."

"And if we don't want to?" It's a girl from the inner circle that speaks, in Grongi and then in English, hands crossed in front of her chest. "The healing thing I seem to have gotten with this would help a lot."

"This power is not a part of your stories." He shudders, the flow of blood from his nose becoming stronger. "I cannot force you to relinquish it. But I will not be responsible for what happens if you keep it."

Her companion, the older man who smells of ink and paper and the iron implements of battle, places a hand on her shoulder and shakes his head.

They come forward in clusters, grouping by world. Yuusuke holds his right hand up to each of them, grasps their fingers tight in his, and she can feel the power of the Grongi drawn from them. Feel it flow into Yuusuke, and the color in his eyes swirls, black into blue, blue into black, drowning the brown of his humanity.

Some are silent, their awe and sorrow and desires shown only in touches, in glances, and Yuusuke responds to them in kind, sending each on their way home.

Some are less silent, less ready to abandon the power that he has given or the man that he had been.

"Let us help you." There are six of them, five standing behind the one who holds Yuusuke's hand tight. "You and Tsukasa—"

"You can't, Takeru." Shaking his head, Yuusuke tightens his fingers around the younger man's. "We need heroes in the worlds right now. To make sure everything doesn't fall apart. Go home, and know you did well."

He almost argues. This one, out of all of them, could have been a good Grongi. This one knows what it is to revel in the joy of fighting, to lose oneself in the pure physicality of conflict and not have to worry about anything else.

The others press forward, grasp Yuusuke's hand, his wrist, pour the power that was forced upon them back into him. Mouth turning up into a slight smile, Takeru lets loose his hold on the Grongi power as well.

She doesn't cry, because she is Grongi, but her throat and chest ache deeply as she watches the young Linto carve a door in the emptiness and lead his people home.

More silent communication, more sorrow and grief, and there are noticeably fewer of them now.

"We can't just leave him here." They speak in Grongi, accented by their own English language. "He's just a boy, Jack, and he's dying."

"You can't stand there and tell me he's _just_ a kid." The one who took so readily to his Grongi form, the wolf with the salt-and-pepper hair, grabs Yuusuke's hand in a firm grip. "And kids his age are dying every day in battles a hell of a lot less important than this."

"Which doesn't make it right." The woman's hand clasps Yuusuke's opposite the man's, cradling his fingers between them. "But I think… he knows what he's doing."

The large man, with the dark skin and the insignia emblazoned on his forehead, settles his fingers on Yuusuke's brow. Staring into those swirling, changing eyes, he smiles a tired smile. "He is like you with the Ancient archive. Using the power he has taken as best he can, though it destroys him. Searching for the least terrible alternatives."

"We let you go commune with the universe when you asked, Danny." The old soldier looks over at his recalcitrant teammate. "He's asking for the same peace."

"No. Because he still doesn't want to die." The man runs a hand through his short-cropped hair. "But we can't help you even if we try, can we? Not anymore. I'm sorry."

His hand rests on Yuusuke's bloody left one, above the vines that still wrap his wound, face hard with suppressed anger and frustration.

A sigh from Yuusuke, and he pulls the power from all four of them. They speak to each other in their own language as they back away from him, cross over to their own world, but sorrow and anger is recognizable in any tongue.

Almost all gone, now, and the last come to him quickly. Give their power with a touch, a kiss, and run off to their worlds, one less Grongi in creation.

Until only one is left, the first one that Yuusuke chose.

He kneels by Yuusuke's side and takes his hand carefully. "When you said you would call me, I thought I would get to fight."

"You did." Yuusuke smiles, though blood continues to run down his face, getting worse with each breath. "You fought to keep your sanity, to save your world. You stood against the madness of the Man in Black, and you did well."

"Your friends… they are…" Kirihiko smiles, just a bit. "They are very special people, Yuusuke. And they care for you a great deal."

"I know." Yuusuke's grin is still the same. "We saved the worlds, you know. Twice."

"I believe you." Tightening his hand, he clasps Yuusuke's fingers in a firm grip. "I have nothing to offer you. I would if I could, but—"

"Go help your world. Be the dark foil for Shotarou, the light one for Saeko. Help Phillip and Wakana discover their purpose." Yuusuke's eyes drift closed for a moment, and the force of will needed to open them again is obvious. "Make people smile, Kirihiko. That's all I want."

"That I can do."

Bowing his head, the last of Yuusuke's Grongi releases his hold on the power. Letting Yuusuke's fingers drop from his, he inclines his head to her before summoning a bridge and disappearing into the gray.

Leaving her alone, the last of the Grongi, and her vines tremble violently where they grasp

Yuusuke, but she will not cry.

"Ra-Buruba-De." His eyes have settled, black lining a piercingly blue iris. "Take my hand."

His fingers are warm where they touch her, fire-hot, and she gasps in wonder as power passes from him to her. Dark, wonderful, the purified essence of their people, and she shudders as his hand drops away, leaving her with the collected strength of the Grongi.

"You will live. And you will create the next generation of Grongi." He smiles, eyes a muddy blue. "I can't tell you who to take. Who to turn, or where to go, or what to do. That's for you to decide. But I will say… if you turn to murder, to nothing but blood sport… Riders will find you. Our light in the worlds. But it doesn't have to be that way, does it, Ra-Baruba-De?"

It is how they have always been. Preying on the animals that live by them, reveling in their own strength and surety, but she has seen what lives in the animals. She has seen the heart of this young Linto; she has seen the burning soul of his older counterpart.

She has looked into the Linto detective's eyes, and seen something recognizable staring back. Though not Grongi, the Linto do have souls.

"I will create a new Grongi, Yuusuke." Her human form rises to cover her Grongi one, the vines that are wrapped around him pulling away. "A generation such as has never been seen before."

He smiles, nods, and reaches past her, for the other Linto's hand. "Done, Kaitou. They're done."

The Linto man doesn't move, eyes fixed on Yuusuke, expression blank. No longer scared, or no longer recognizing his own fear. "And?"

"Home." Yuusuke's eyes are his own again, for the first time in a long time. "Kaitou. Daiki. I want… to go home."

The thief moves to his side, gun clenched in a white-knuckled grip. His mouth opens, as though he's going to say something, and his hand brushes Yuusuke's. The door opens around them, drops them through it. Leaving her standing where she is, though she was not a meter from Yuusuke's side.

She considers following him. She is fond of him, in a strange way, and he has given her a gift she would never have expected to receive. Hope, that she can take what has happened and make something beautiful from it.

There is nothing she can do for Yuusuke, though, and it is clear that he intended to leave her behind. Cutting her own gateway, she lets her instincts guide her, the power of the Grongi already yearning for an exit, a host, a life.

Let the Linto die where he will, with those of his choosing.


	18. Part Seventeen: The Secrets of God

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing Kamen Rider.

**Author's Note:** Lots of playing with religion in this, but no real spoilers. Some potentially disturbing allusions to injuries (if you've come this far you know what one). Enjoy!

_Part Seventeen: The Secrets of God in His Eyes_

Yuusuke opens the door between worlds right beneath them. Though it spreads out so that it encircles them and takes them home safely, there's still a disconcerting moment when Kaitou can feel and see part of his body is in the grey space between and part is in the photo studio, and he doesn't really appreciate the sensations.

But he can't yell at Yuusuke. The man shakes, a constant, violent trembling of his muscles. His left hand is still trying to hold the place where Natsumi ripped him open closed, but that's a losing battle. Especially since each panting, shuddering breath seems to make things worse.

"Yuusuke, stop it." He doesn't want to look at the injury, but he can look at Yuusuke's face. Turn Yuusuke's too-limp head toward him, though his fingers smear fresh blood across Yuusuke's cheek, and make the man focus on him. "I know it hurts, but you need to breathe slow and steady. No panicking. No panting. It's just going to make things worse."

"Daiki?" Yuusuke's eyes are fever-bright, though his skin is cold and clammy beneath the sheen of blood and sweat. His right hand swipes ineffectually at one of Kaitou's hands, falling to the ground and staying there. "Stay. Here. I…"

_Since you're not on duty, call 119._

The voice in his head is calm, dispassionate, reciting the steps that he spent so much time meticulously making second nature. It's a voice he hasn't heard in years, not since he first ran as fast as he could away from his world.

It's not a voice he wants to hear now, either. He doesn't do things like this. He doesn't manage other people's problems. He doesn't _care_ about other people's problems.

_Assess the situation._

The situation's simple. Yuusuke's dying.

_Call for help. Call 119._

"I don't have a damn cell phone!"

Yuusuke flinches at the sudden sound, eyes flickering open. He's breathing slower now, which means at least he isn't helping to eviscerate himself. He smiles hazily after a moment. "Daiki."

"Yeah." He should get up. He should move his hand from Yuusuke's face, either to go find the studio's phone or to run. Help or leave. No sense just staying here.

But if he leaves, even for a minute, Yuusuke might…

"'m sorry." Yuusuke rolls his head, pressing against Kaitou's palm. "Tried. Best. Did best…"

"I know. You always do. Idiot." Taking Yuusuke's right hand, he gives it a brief squeeze. "I'm going to go—"

"No." Yuusuke's fingers spasm against his, a slightly more coordinated shiver. "Stay. Please."

"Yuusuke…"

He doesn't have to decide what to do, though. A bridge springs to life next to them, earning a deep sigh of relief from Yuusuke.

They don't look all that different. Their clothes are somewhat singed, somewhat bloody, but they look fine. Look almost normal, as they take the few steps to Yuusuke's side and kneel down. Tsukasa takes Yuusuke's right hand, Natsumi his left. Moving in disconcerting symmetry, they reach out to smooth dark strands of hair away from his face.

Natsumi's smile is the gentlest thing Kaitou has ever seen as she carefully displaces Kaitou's fingers from Yuusuke's cheek, her own taking their place. "Well done, Onodera Yuusuke. Very well done."

"Tried." Yuusuke's eyes drift closed as he leans his head against her palm, but he seems to be breathing easier. At least quieter, and minus the driving force that exacerbates his other problems. "Tired."

"It took a lot to do what you did." Tsukasa smiles fondly, running a hand down Yuusuke's face before carefully starting to work his hands under the man's prone body. "But it's over now. You can rest, Yuusuke. We'll take care of you."

Standing, Tsukasa lifts Yuusuke into his arms with what seems almost practiced ease. It should be awkward for him. It should be difficult, because even though Yuusuke's small he's still a Rider, but no effort shows on the man's face. Natsumi still has her hand pressed against Yuusuke's face, and though his eyes are closed he's smiling.

Turning away from Yuusuke and Tsukasa, Natsumi reaches out with her right hand, red with Yuusuke's blood and what might be the flicker of tiny flames.

"What are you going to do?" Kaitou flinches at the sound of his own voice, echoing almost stridently in the dark studio. "Where are you going to go?"

"Away." She's crying. A constant, steady, quiet flow of tears down her face, and how did he miss that before? "We're not the people you knew anymore, Kaitou Daiki. We can't be."

"No." He shakes his head, reaching out to her, though he stops short of actually touching her. "You're still Natsumelon. Look, can't you just use those god-like powers and heal him? Fix him. Then we can all go back to—"

"That's not the way it works, Daiki." Her hand reaches out to him, dances briefly across his neck, his face before pulling away again, fingers clenched tight into a fist. "Avatars of the gods, and it's time for the gods to go home. Besides, what he needs to heal is something that we can't offer him. It is not born from our power."

"So you're just going to take him somewhere to die?" He still has DienDriver in his hand, and the tip twitches toward her briefly. "He's our friend. Your friend. Just take him to a hospital and—"

Tsukasa turns his head to look at them. "How many old gods have you seen walking around the worlds, Kaitou?"

"Haven't really been counting. Not the type of treasure I'm usually interested in stealing."

Tsukasa's mouth flickers up into the ghost of a smile, though it disappears after a moment. "We've served our purpose. It's time for us to return to the fire."

"_You_ can go back to whatever fire you want to whenever you damn well please. But you better leave three people behind when you go."

Tsukasa's head tilts to the side, lips quirking up into another smile. Close to but not quite like Tsukasa's normal self-confident grin. "Getting fairly demanding there, aren't you?"

"I don't like self-confident bastards at the best of times. Now isn't the best of times." He can't tell if Yuusuke's still breathing, cradled there in Tsukasa's arms.

"Natsumi." With a long-suffering sigh, Tsukasa transfers Yuusuke's limp form to the woman's arms. "Take him. He's suffered long enough."

"Don't move." Pointing DienDriver at her head, he avoids looking at her eyes. "You're not going to do this."

Natsumi studies him, frowning. "Would you really shoot me, Daiki?"

Hand sliding along the trigger, he shrugs. "You'll kill any of us readily enough."

Her head drops down, tears running harder, a few pattering down onto Yuusuke's chest. That was harsher than he needed to be, harsher than he really _meant_ to be, but he doesn't handle things like this well.

There's no time to apologize, even if he wanted to. Tsukasa moves like fire, fast and flashy, and there's not enough time to respond. His grip is fire-hot, ice-cold, crushing Kaitou's fingers until he drops DienDriver to the floor, and Kaitou bites back a howl of pain.

"Watch your tongue, little sneak thief." Fire plays in Tsukasa's eyes, runs in waves down his skin. "We're trying to be human for you."

"Then stop fucking trying." His hand hurts, might have things broken in it, but he can't pull away. Can't even tear his eyes away from Tsukasa's, caught in that dancing light. "Because you're not the people I know. They fight. They don't give up. They don't run."

"No. That's what you do." He starts to smirk, Tsukasa at his cruelest, and freezes. His eyes blink shut, once, twice, and he straightens. "Fine, then. No charades. You can't have them, Kaitou Daiki. They gave themselves, so that the universe can live. That sacrifice is not in vain."

"I don't care about the universe." The thing that wears Tsukasa's body has loosened its grip on his hand, and he pulls his fingers free. His skin looks fine, though it still hurts, burns to the core of all his bones. "They belong to me. I'm not letting you take them."

"And if they stayed with you, what would happen?" There's no expression on Tsukasa's face anymore. Barely any inflection in his voice, but there's power permeating the studio. "Could you heal Yuusuke? Could you give the others their sanity back? They are gods, and they have seen Chaos. Do you really think they could go back to being human after that?"

Cradling his injured hand close to his chest, he flicks a glance at Natsumi and Yuusuke. "They're apparently still human enough to die."

Tsukasa's mouth quirks up at the edges, just slightly. "Even gods die, Kaitou."

"It's cruel." His fingers clench into a fist, though it sends pain screaming up his arm. "What you're doing here. It's just… cruel."

"If I'm cruel, it's because that's how people made me." Tsukasa turns away from him. "It's over, Kaitou. Find a way to live with it."

They're going to leave. They're going to disappear.

_Even if they live, they won't be ours anymore._

An old man's voice, a photo, and his normally agile fingers shouldn't be having so much trouble getting into his pocket. "Natsumi. Before you give up and follow like a good girl. Your grandfather wanted me to give this to you."

She moves forward slowly, hesitantly, frowning in uncertain confusion. He waits until she's right in front of him before setting the picture down on Yuusuke's chest, facing her.

The tears run harder down her face, and she sinks slowly down to the ground, setting Yuusuke down gently. Picking the picture up, she cradles it between her hands. "Our family."

"Yeah." His throat's too tight, too dry. "Our… that."

"Enough." Tsukasa's hand falls heavily on her shoulder, and she flinches from it.

"Family." Her eyes are haunted as she looks up at him, tears still falling in a steady stream. "Parvati would understand that. Parvati would stay for that."

"He wants no more facades." Tsukasa's hand tightens, digging into her skin. "No more pretend humanity. Those names and their associations are a façade as much as Tsukasa and Natsumi are."

She hesitates, eyes tracing over the photo again and again. Her mouth opens, closes, and she sighs. Taking his hand in hers, she bows her head. "Yes."

"No." Kaitou smiles as they both turn to look at him. "Because you're lying. Or wrong. Or both. And you're not gone, Natsumelon. You're still in there, fighting. Holding that picture, though it doesn't want you to. Crying, though there'd be no need for you to."

She stares at the photo, pulls her hand away from Tsukasa's and reaches up to touch her cheek. When she looks at him, there is fear and grief both shining brightly from her eyes. "Daiki?"

Tsukasa's fist connects with his jaw before he can say anything else. He reels back from the blow, blinking his vision into focus, and tries to punch Tsukasa in return.

Which might not have been the brightest thing he ever did. Tsukasa's good at dodging his blows at the best of times, catching his hand, and that's when he's not inhumanly fast.

Tsukasa's fingers close around his throat, each one an agonizing line of cold fire, and start to squeeze.

XXX

They're fighting.

They're trying to kill each other, when they shouldn't be, when this is all wrong. So wrong, because they shouldn't be here, but they'd wanted to say goodbye to Daiki.

Wanted to see what was wrong with Yuusuke, why he hadn't come to them, and she reaches out to take his hand again. He's still breathing, but they're shallow little gasps, the spacing between them getting longer with each passing moment.

It shouldn't ache like this anymore. They are still too human, or not god enough, and it's going to cause them to hurt the things they most wanted to protect.

Her eyes close, but the image from the picture is burned into her mind. Just as the feel of the edges, the slickness of the front and the rough texture of the back will be forever tingling through her fingertips.

Except she won't have hands soon. Not like she knows hands, at least. They will return to the beginning, to the primordial form, as they were before the desperation of the Riders called them forth. They will not be human, by any definition of the word.

They aren't human now, though they tried to be. Tried to ape the actions that these avatars would take, because there were things left undone here. Always things left undone, and her hand clenches tight on Yuusuke's.

"Na's'mi?" He slurs the word, eyes still closed, and the faintest of pressures is returned against her grip.

"Hush, Yuusuke." Stroking a hand down his face, she smiles at him, willing her power to flow over him. "It's going to be over soon."

"Scared…" His eyes crack open, and his fingers tighten around hers again.

"You don't have to stay like this, Yuusuke." His blood is sticky beneath her hand as she strokes his face, his hair, his chest, giving as much comfort as she can. "Let Vishnu's power take you."

"No." Shaking his head, he smiles, just slightly. "Can have me… when I die. Not giving up. Like Godai. Never giving up."

"It's not giving up. It's what has to happen. The end of the myth. The closing of the story."

She knows it, on a fundamental level. The fire understands, as it burns through her, as it guides her, that the end must be final. The end must be clear, the sacrifice unmistakable, so that people can understand.

"Why?" Yuusuke's fingers are cold, between hers. "Gave Tsukasa a story. Better story. Better than dying."

They staved off the inevitable for a little bit, but now Tsukasa's lost, drowning in the stories that twine around him, lashing out in his fear and frustration. "We chose. We let it take us."

"No. Save the world." Blood isn't running from his nose anymore, and though Vishnu's power still pulses through him it is faint and weak. Tired from all that they have done, drawn back to where they are whole, rejected by this avatar. "Chose… save the worlds. Doesn't mean… can't keep fighting… now. 'Sides… Daiki wants us to stay."

Daiki wants them to stay. Daiki reached out to them, something he didn't usually do.

_Is that enough?_ She still has her humanity, wrapped in the fire, and it quests against the flames. _Is that enough of a choice? Enough of a chance?_

There is nothing human in the flickering tongues of flame that fill her. Too much for her to possibly understand, but she delves into it anyway. If there's a chance, a hope, a dream, then maybe…

It's so beautiful. So wonderful, dancing in brilliant concert with creation, and the layers peel back before her eyes. The dark, rampaging might of Kali; the grief and devotion of Sati; the encompassing, overarching strength and love and sensuality of Parvati. She has danced with each of them, tried on each mantle, and found bits that fit.

Just as she has worn the final mantle, the light behind the flame, the cold, burning awesomeness that could stand equal to the chaos of the Man in Black.

She can't approach it too closely. Can't dive too deeply into it, not and keep this humanity. And she very, very much wants to keep this humanity. _Do I have to give this up?_

There are no words from the powers flowing through her. There is no need, and it is more wonderful to talk in dance. A slow dance, of devotion, of longing, and it understands why she needs to ask this; a vicious dance, a battle she has fought and won, but she can't watch it again. It tears at her consciousness, at her sanity, threatens to destroy her, and she cries out.

Cries out and then forces herself back to the dance, to the quietness that it falls into now. Contemplative, gentle, a swaying, hesitant uncertainty of two paths. One simple and clear, the ending that the universe offers; one difficult, painful, full of so many choices, because that is what being mortal means.

_I choose that._ She breaks from the dance, awkward, clumsy, something living and vibrant and untamed in this mass of creative force. _We choose that! If you let us, we choose that._

The power swirls around her, teases at her, because she's still not understanding. She's still asking it for guidance, asking it for what can and cannot be done, but there's no point to doing that.

After all, it's not the one who needs to choose. It's not the one to blame, when things are painful; it's not the one to thank, when things go right.

_If you're cruel, it's because that's how we made you._

The power is wonderfully gentle, swirling around her, brushing through her. Gentle as she would like to be, if she were the architect of creation, the light at the beginning, the force that stood against the endless nothingness and gave mortal hands strength.

_We make you. We give you the ability to act. If the stories are dark, if the end always has blood, it's because that's what we understand. That's what we tell each other. That's what we repeat._

It waits, silent, stillness incarnate. The antithesis of the chaos that she fought before, but just as incomprehensible, just as damaging in its pure form.

_That's not the story that we want. We don't need an ending._

It waits still, patient, so patient, because Time has no meaning to the light that creates it.

_I choose to be human. We all choose to be human. With whatever consequences come._

She wants to say it smiles as it leaves, but that's probably just her own wishful thinking.

XXX

Opening her eyes is one of the most difficult things she's ever done. Not _the_ most difficult thing she's ever done, because of what she did to Tsukasa, what she did to Yuusuke, but if not for those incidents…

Yuusuke.

_Tsukasa._

He's still fighting with Kaitou, though they've rolled to the other side of the room. She needs to go to him, help him despite the exhaustion weighing down her limbs, but she can't just leave Yuusuke here—

She doesn't see the door between worlds open, but she can feel it. There's power in the air, power she hadn't even noticed playing over her skin because she's felt so much of it during this past day. But the door opening disrupts that, causes her teeth to ache deep in the back of her mouth, and she spins toward the intruder.

He's older than her by several years at least, though he's dressed in a T-shirt and faded blue jeans. He stops as soon as he sees her crouched by Yuusuke, hands going out to the side in a gesture clearly meant to say he's harmless. Eyes that are a disconcertingly familiar shade of brown run over Yuusuke, assessing his state before jumping back to her. "Let me take him. Let me help him."

She shouldn't trust this man. She shouldn't _want _to trust him. But the determination on his face, the look in his eyes… he could be Yuusuke, if Yuusuke lives another five or ten years.

Nodding slowly, she rises from her crouch. "If anything more happens to him, no place in the multiverse will be safe."

She sees the hint of a smile and a thumb's up out of the corner of her eye as she turns and runs to Tsukasa and Kaitou.

XXX

Tsukasa stops choking him about the time his vision starts going black, and he gasps in a breath that turns to a hacking, painful cough. Tears are sliding down his face, but he doesn't have time to brush at the obnoxious things as he tries to buck Tsukasa off him.

Hands slam down on his shoulders, pin him more firmly to the ground than Tsukasa should be able to, and his head smashes against the floor with painful force.

"I told you to give up, Kaitou." Tsukasa's sneering face is inches from his own. "It's what you're good at, isn't it, little sneak thief?"

"Only… if I… want to." He manages to get his hands up, bracing them on Tsukasa and trying to force the man off him.

For a moment he thinks it's worked, Tsukasa rolling with the motion. But the man somehow manages to hook Kaitou's arms, and after a disconcerting trip through the air he's pinned again beneath Tsukasa's weight, this time with his arms held just above the elbow.

"Nice try, Kaitou." That grin's still in place, self-satisfied and proud. "I'll let you go when you acknowledge what's going to happen."

"Like hell." His arms are starting to ache and burn under Tsukasa's grip, just like his hand. "You're one of my treasures. I'm the only one who gets to kill you. Remember?"

"Why should I? _You _don't remember half the time." Tsukasa's fingers dig deeper into his skin. "It wasn't you that stopped the Destroyer, Kaitou Daiki."

"Tried." The fingers of his right hand twitch, trying to mime shooting something and mostly just succeeding in sending a bolt of agony down his arm. "I did shoot you in the head."

"Proud of that fact, Kaitou?" The grin fades slightly, his head cocking to the side.

There hadn't seemed to be much choice. Yuusuke was out of control, they were outnumbered by at least four to one, their friends were disappearing… _Tsukasa_ was the reason their friends were disappearing. The reason Asumu disappeared, with a cut-off yell of fear, and he was standing just meters from the boy and couldn't do anything. And Tsukasa was going to die anyway, because even if Decade was built with the express purpose of destroying the other Riders, it hadn't been intended to face them all at once. And the Tsukasa that he'd become, the man that Yuusuke and Natsumi had made him, wasn't the kind of man who could survive a war he could only win if he slaughtered the too-human enemy…

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." He quirks his mouth up into a grin, though his chest hurts. He couldn't have known what would happen, what that shot would do to Tsukasa.

Tsukasa nods slowly, a sly grin of his own. "You say that about all your stupid mistakes. Kaitou… you've got to let us go."

"Not an option." His hands are starting to go numb, and all the way up to his shoulders burns. He can see them, when they're both so still, the little flames still dancing over Tsukasa. "My treasures stay with me. Or at least where I can find them."

"I'm not human anymore, Daiki. I don't think I have been… for a while. Maybe not ever." His eyes close and he draws a soft, shuddering breath. "But I don't think I can even pretend anymore."

Natsumi's arms come around Tsukasa from behind, wrap around his chest and squeeze tightly. "That's not true."

"Ow." Kaitou sighs as another weight adds itself to Tsukasa's, leaving him very thoroughly trapped. Natsumi and Tsukasa don't seem to notice or care, though.

Tsukasa's hands release his arms, at least, rise slowly to stroke along Natsumi's hands and wrists. "What… did you do?"

"Made a choice." She laughs, a breathless, scared, exhilarated sound, and Kaitou wishes he could see her face. "Maybe a bad one, or at least Parvati thought it might be, but a human one."

Fire flares high in Tsukasa's eyes, runs in a sheet of white down his arms before dripping to the floor and sending up little puffs of smoke. "How can you? What we did… what we saw…"

"People touch the enormity of the universe all the time. Lots of ways to deal with that." Natsumi's hands shake and tremble for a moment before pressing even tighter against Tsukasa. If it hurts her, touching him, she doesn't let it show. "Mostly I haven't thought about it, because there are more important things. But we'll deal with it, Tsukasa. I'll help you."

"It's not the same." He shakes his head slowly, and that might be the faint glimmer of fire reflecting off tears as he lowers his head, cheek resting against Natsumi's arm. "You were born human. You and Yuusuke and everyone else caught up in this. But I was born just for this. What Kenzaki said is true. I was created to play the part of a god and then disappear. A true avatar. If there's no god—"

"Wrong." Kaitou's voice is rough, his throat sore inside and out. "I knew you when you were DaiShocker's Great Leader, remember. And while you were a lot of things—mostly arrogant, gullible, stupid, and obnoxious—you weren't a god."

"Wasn't I?" Tsukasa's hand reaches down, toys with Kaitou's hair, his jacket collar, and the grin on the man's face is very much like the eighteen-year-old leader of DaiShocker that Kaitou first met. "I could walk between worlds. I could bring back anything I wanted."

"_Yuusuke_ can manage to walk between worlds now." Kaitou snorts. "Intelligence and godhood definitely not necessary for that one."

"No. Not after they all became fixtures. Not after my power touched and changed them." Tsukasa shivers, sitting up straight again, both hands clasping Natsumi's tight. "Creation from destruction. Shiva's story. My story."

"Just a part of it." Natsumi rises, coming around to kneel by Kaitou's side and look into Tsukasa's face. "A part that I think we emphasized too much when we brought you back. How could we not, after… after all that? But Kadoya Tsukasa doesn't have to be a god. Kadoya Tsukasa doesn't have to disappear. You can stay with us, Tsukasa. You can be human, and it'll be all right."

"That's your choice? You… want me to stay?" Face impassive again, impossible to read, and Kaitou tenses.

Natsumi takes Tsukasa's right hand, cradles it between both of hers and smiles. "Yes. Then, and now, and always, yes. I want Tsukasa to be here with me. With us. All four of us."

Tsukasa's head tilts down, eyes finding and pinning Kaitou.

A part of him's tempted to say no, just to be contrary, just to protest everything that's happened in the last two days. But the thing looking at him from Tsukasa's eyes might just take that as his actual, final answer, and there's a larger part of him that doesn't want that. "Stay. Be Tsukasa. Treasure, mine, I'm the only one who gets to kill you, all the usual things."

Tsukasa smiles that knowing smile of his, the one that says he can read your soul and your thoughts like a book, better than you can. It's quite possibly true right now, but Kaitou'd rather not think about that.

There's no roar of thunder. No pillar of flame. Just a quiet, contemplative closing of Tsukasa's eyes, and the flames that had been flickering across his skin flare for a moment before fading away entirely.

Kaitou isn't prepared for Tsukasa to collapse across him, but Natsumi helps him roll the other Rider onto the floor. It's only a few seconds before Tsukasa's eyes blink open, taking in first Natsumi on his right and then Kaitou on his left.

"Natsumi." Tsukasa's hand finds and holds hers, his smile pleased and warm. "Kaitou." The smile he gets is different, as is the inflection to Tsukasa's voice, but Kaitou wouldn't have it any way.

"Tsukasa." Reaching up with his left hand, because his right still hurts like hell, Kaitou feels at the burns already starting to swell around his neck. He's going to have to find clever ways to annoy Tsukasa in the near future… but not right now. "Welcome back."

"Ah." Using Natsumi's hand as a lever, Tsukasa pulls himself into a sitting position. "Where's Yuusuke?"

Kaitou stops short, grin falling. With the shape Yuusuke had been in before this all started…

"He's with a friend. I think." Natsumi stands, bracing herself for a moment before holding a hand out to each of them. "Come on."

He lets her pull him to his feet, follows her along the bridge that she shakily makes between worlds. Tsukasa follows him, a grim shadow.

He doesn't believe in any gods, and after all that's happened he definitely wouldn't pray to one, but maybe they can get a miracle, anyway.


	19. Part Eighteen Peace That Comes at Length

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any Kamen Rider characters.

**Author's Note:** There are spoilers for Hibiki, Kuuga and Decade in this. There's nothing much traumatizing, though. Enjoy!

_Part Eighteen: Peace That Comes At Length_

His hand still hurts.

It's really the only complaint Kaitou has at the moment, and there's no one to make it to, so he just pokes at the offending spot a few times before sighing. If he could wake Tsukasa up to complain to him, he might, but that's not really a feasible option.

Tsukasa and Natsumi are both curled up on the small bed tucked against the far wall of the room. They'd started out on opposite sides of the mattress, but before five minutes had passed Tsukasa had his arm around Natsumi's waist, his head buried in her hair. Kaitou's still not sure if she actually approves or was just too exhausted to do anything about it at the time, so waking them up should be interesting. It could be fun to do it himself… but it could also be dangerous, if Natsumi wakes up in a bad mood. Maybe he'll let Kenzaki do it. He seems like the kind of person who deserves a laughing pressure point every once in a while…

His eyes are drifting closed again, and he forces them back open with an exasperated sigh. Standing, he paces the confines of their small room, poking at the collection of books and knick-knacks on the shelves along the right-hand wall of the room. A little snow-globe with woodland creatures makes its way into his pocket before he's really aware that he's done it. He considers putting it back, because the thing can't be worth much, and decides against it. It can be his memento of this world.

The door creaks open and he spins toward it, fumbling Diend out of its holster and pointing it at the intruder with his left hand. Stupid right hand for hurting. Stupid left hand for not being as dexterous as his right.

The boy freezes in the doorway, a tray of food held carefully balanced in both hands. His white coat practically glows in the institutional lighting of the hallway, and Kaitou sighs as he lets the gun drop. "Come on in, Asumu-kun."

The young man hesitates before doing just that, setting the tray down on the small table to the left of the door. "How do you—oh! You're the Rider from two months ago. The one who saved us." Asumu grins, bowing low. "Thank you."

"Ah." Rubbing at the back of his neck, he sidles around the boy and toward the food. He can't really protest that he hadn't helped them, since he very obviously had. Though the thought of it being two months ago to this kid when it had been maybe seven hours ago for him is strange. Then again, it was probably one of the longest seven hours of his life. "Didn't have much choice in helping. If the universe dies, all the treasures disappear. Can't have that."

Asumu gives him a quizzical look as he rises from his bow. "No? That would be… inconvenient?"

Smiling, Kaitou pokes at the food. It looks edible, but he's always wary of anything involving hospitals. Looks can be deceiving. "You're not as assertive as the younger you."

It takes Asumu a moment to process that, the boy's face contorting as he thinks. "Right. The whole multiverse thing. You know a version of me that became an Oni."

"You aren't?" Frowning, Kaitou picks up the bowl of miso soup with his left hand, sipping at it. Not half bad. "Why not?"

The young man shrugs. "It just didn't seem right to me. I'm not a fighter. I never have been. But I can help Takeshi and Hibiki and all the others here. They need people in the medical profession who know about the Oni. Plus I can help other people—non-Takeshi people. It's a good job for me."

"Whatever makes you happy, shounen." Settling into his chair, Kaitou picks up the chopsticks with his right hand. Which is a mistake, because his right hand is still aching, and trying to bend his fingers in the proper way makes it go from an annoyance to a stabbing inferno in the center of his palm.

"Careful." Asumu catches the chopsticks before they hit the floor, with a speed and surety that he didn't learn in any nursing school. Concern etches the boy's face as he reaches for Kaitou's hand. "Are you hurt?"

He considers saying no, but Kaitou's usually smart enough not to use lies that are blatantly obvious. People stopped believing _anything_ you said if you did that. "Just a little bit bruised."

"Let me see." The boy doesn't wait for a reply before firmly grabbing his wrist and extending his arm out. The center of his hand is indeed bruised, and there's a hot, swollen spot just to the right of center. Asumu's fingers brush against it, cool and professional. "I'm going to try moving some of your fingers, all right? Tell me if anything hurts."

"It's fine." Pulling his hand back hurts, and it doesn't get Asumu's hands to let go.

"It's not fine." Asumu continues gently tugging on his arm until he has the injured hand back in front of him again. "It's probably broken. At the very least there's some kind of luxation at the joint. You might need some kind of internal fixation put on it if you want to get full function of the appendage back."

Pursing his lips, Kaitou looks between his hand and the boy before grinning. "Nice show."

"You like me being more assertive, right?" Asumu shrugs, looking down, cheeks flushing with what's probably embarrassment. "If you're hurt, we want to help you. We want to help all of you. Hibiki told me what happened. What the Riders did to you and your friends. I'm sorry. But you can trust us here. I promise."

"Shounen…" He doesn't trust anyone, anywhere. But he somehow doubts trying to explain that to this Asumu will be very useful, and just because _he_ doesn't trust people doesn't mean having them trust him's a bad thing. "Thanks for the food."

"We thought you'd probably be hungry. And tired." He flicks a glance at Tsukasa and Natsumi on the bed, face flushing again as he looks down. "Hibiki and Kenzaki both send their regards."

"That's nice." Kenzaki had been the one to greet them and bring them here, finding them as soon as they crossed over from the photo studio. "How's Yuusuke?"

"Alive." Asumu's head goes down again, his eyes fixed on Kaitou's fingers. Starting from the smallest one and working his way in, he slowly bends each digit. "Tell me which one hurts."

Pulling his hand away from the boy, Kaitou flexes his fingers, wincing slightly as the third and fourth twinge. "Tell me what's happening with Yuusuke first."

"Nothing. Well, nothing new." Asumu squares his shoulders, head rising defiantly. "He's still in surgery. They probably will be for a couple more hours, with how… torn up he was."

"And?" Kaitou offers his hand back to the boy. Holding the offending fingers out, he smiles slightly. "It hurts most when I move these."

"And what?" The kid's fingers trace gently over the bones, manipulating them slightly. Kaitou pulls back with a hiss of pain when Asumu's fingers reach the swollen part of his hand, glaring at the boy.

"And you're not telling me something." Kaitou keeps his hand in close to his chest, turning back to the food and picking up the chopsticks with his left hand. It's not as good at fine motor control as his right one, but any thief who couldn't use both hands well didn't deserve the title.

"I'm not…" Asumu sighs. "It's just… you know his prognosis is bad."

Kaitou fixes the boy with one of his unreadable stares.

"If he lives, it's going to be… He's probably going to die." The boy's head goes back down. "But I've seen people pull through some really bad things. Some Oni come in looking like they should die, and they don't. For your friend to still be alive, he's a fighter."

"To the core of his stupid heart." Kaitou offers a plate to the boy, who shakes his head. "Though you're the first person who's actually said that to us. That Yuusuke's probably… Not that we hadn't figured it out. I mean, intestines are really supposed to stay inside your body."

"That's not the part that's really bad. Well, I mean, it isn't a _good_ thing, but really it's the fact that so many nerves were ripped when the amadam was removed that—" Asumu's words come to a skittering stop. "But you probably aren't interested in hearing about that. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

Kaitou chews contemplatively for a moment. He gives a little shrug as he swallows, acknowledging the boy's words without having to actually respond to them. "Are they avoiding us? The doctors and the other Riders."

Asumu hesitates before nodding reluctantly. "A bit, yeah. The doctors with the best understanding of the Kuuga physiology are in surgery, and Kenzaki and the others… they're… worried about how Tsukasa's going to react if Kuuga doesn't make it."

A disgruntled voice mumbles from the bed. "Tsukasa isn't going to do anything to them. 's not their fault."

Asumu jumps to his feet, bowing low. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were awake. I didn't mean any disrespect by it, and it's probably just a misunder—"

Tugging on Asumu's sleeve, Kaitou gestures for him to be quiet.

After a few seconds of no response from the people sprawled on the bed, Asumu softly asks, "Are you asleep?"

Not even a snore in reply. The young man turns back to Kaitou, who shrugs. He smiles at the kid, keeping his voice quiet when he responds. "They're tired. Saving the multiverse is hard work."

"I'm sure it is." Asumu smiles, and Kaitou can see something of the young boy he knows in this young man. Different in this world, definitely different, but still something fundamentally similar. "You've got to be tired too. I can have a cot brought in here. Sorry we didn't think about it before. We're just used to having only a deshi or a field assistant here, so all three of you…"

"That's all right. I'd rather not sleep right now."

The boy throws him a dubious look that becomes a soft grin of understanding.

Kaitou frowns in annoyance, because he's pretty sure the kid's "understanding" is totally wrong. "It's not like I'm protecting them or anything."

Asumu just shrugs, but there's still that small grin on his face.

Sulking, Kaitou goes back to his meal. He _isn't_ protecting them. Really. He's just looking out for himself, because they're in a potentially hostile world here. After all, these are the people who tried to kill Tsukasa once and would probably look on most ex-DaiShocker members, no matter how negligible their loyalty had been, as something suspect.

Fixing the young man with a scowl, he waves the chopsticks at him. "I'm not worrying about Yuusuke, either."

"Of course not." Settling down in the other chair, Asumu steals a noodle from one of the dishes. "Do you want me to tell you what they're doing?"

Swallowing his bite of food, Kaitou shrugs.

"Godai-san's been working on setting this up for a week now, you know. Ever since he got things sorted out on his world. Bringing his doctor here, which Tsubaki-sensei was not very pleased with at first, and letting the Onis' doctors run all sorts of tests on him. He's a really fascinating guy."

Kaitou snorts. "If he's anything like our Yuusuke, I'll agree with that." The boy smiles that knowing grin again, so Kaitou shrugs. "As long as you add stupid and crazy to the description."

"He thinks, if they can just buy Onodera-san enough time, that the amadam will be able to heal itself, as long as there's enough left. Apparently his was damaged a few times, pretty badly, but it only ended up getting stronger once it healed."

Kaitou nods, studying his food, though he suddenly finds it a lot less appetizing. Blood and sparkling, beautiful bits of black flying through the air, banishing the darkness that was trying to destroy everything. "And if there's not enough left?"

"That's why Godai-san's in there with them. It'll be a gamble, but their belts seem to be virtually identical, so… We're going to do everything we can to save him, Kaitou-san. I swear." Asumu smiles, and though it's not a happy expression it's not forced. So much determination in that look, so much faith and hope and loyalty, and Kaitou wishes, just for a moment, that _his_ Asumu could smile like that.

Though maybe he does. He hasn't seen the boy in over a month, but his world had been happy after the War, with Asumu and Todoroki and Akira making a damn good team. Tsukasa didn't _always_ fail at fixing the worlds he visited. "I still think you'd make a good Oni, shounen."

"Ah. Probably." Asumu's embarrassed again, head tucked against his chest.

Kaitou grins. There are benefits to having a less assertive Asumu.

The boy looks up at him, still smiling. "But I'm happy here, doing this. Helping everyone. If they ever really need me as an Oni… maybe. Until then, this is my role."

"Damn heroes, everywhere I look. You and Yuusuke might get along pretty good, when this is over." Offering his right hand to the boy again, he smiles. "Don't suppose you're any good at putting a splint on?"

XXX

A soft hand on her shoulder wakes her up, and she blinks blearily in the early morning light. For a long moment she can't figure out where she is, the mattress beneath her completely unfamiliar, the soft beige of their surroundings and the few furnishings that she blinks into view completely alien.

Then her eyes catch on the white coat of the man standing next to the bed, reaching out to gently touch her shoulder again, and it all comes flooding back. A hospital, in a different Hibiki world than the one they know, and they have Yuusuke in surgery.

_Had_ Yuusuke in surgery, when they got here last night, but the sun poking over the horizon says that was several hours ago at least.

When she tries to sit up she finds herself held in place. One of Tsukasa's arms is around her waist, and the warmth pressed all along her back must be his body. She can feel her face flushing, and she elbows him sharply as she struggles to sit up and look half-aware. "Yuusuke?"

"Alive." The doctor smiles as he says it, though there's a weariness to his face, dark half-moons under both his eyes. "He gave me a few scares, but he's alive, and I'm pretty confident we'll be able to keep him that way."

Tsukasa's hand relaxes, falling away from hers. She hadn't even realized she'd grabbed his fingers before asking the question.

"Take us there." She can feel the bed shift as Tsukasa sits up.

"I was planning on it." The doctor nods toward the corner of the room. "Is it safe to wake him?"

Daiki's sprawled in a chair, his head leaning back at an awkard angle against the wall, though it looks like someone tried to work a blanket in behind him to act as neck support. White bandaging swaths the third and fourth digits of his right hand, taping them together before continuing down his palm to wrap around his wrist. The free fingers of that hand are curled around another blanket that's draped over his legs, while his left hand is wrapped aroud DienDriver, one finger resting on the trigger.

Protecting them, though he'd probably never admit it. Tsukasa's lifting one of the pillows off the bed, but she knocks it from his hand with a shake of her head. Smiling, she stands and walks over to Kaitou, only unsteady on her feet for the first two or three steps.

Though Daiki's the most vocal about having his freedom, the most determined in his disdain for things like heroism and bonds of attachment, he's always been there for her. When Tsukasa was DaiShocker's Great Leader and Yuusuke their puppet; when Tsukasa was slaughtering everyone, and Yuusuke was lost in that battle; when the forces of creation wrapped around all three of them and tried to spirit them away. When everyone else is gone, Kaitou Daiki's still there, his simple presence calling into question the beliefs he supposedly espouses.

She means to kiss his forehead, because it's too tempting _not_ to touch him, looking so vulnerable and dangerous at the same time. And because she's fond of him, maybe more than she should be, after everything that's happened.

But somehow between her bending down and her lips making contact with his skin he moves, mouth sliding up to meet hers, bandaged right hand going behind her head and pulling her closer to him. She sputters, trying to pull away from the kiss, and basically ends up sitting in his lap.

Kaitou laughs, grinning like a five-year-old as he smoothes hair away from her face with his left hand, managing not to beat her in the head with DienDriver somehow. "Stole a kiss, Natsumelon. I guess we can call it even on the debt from before."

"What debt?" Struggling to her feet, she slaps at Kaitou's hand, being careful not to hit his right one too hard. _This_ is why she forgets, sometimes, how much she likes this man. Though he's probably the oldest of them, he can be so damn _childish_.

"You still owed me a treasure for the hug." He stands, sliding Diend into his jacket. He points his right hand at Tsukasa, frowns at the bandages, and points with his left, forming a mock gun. "Careful, Tsukasa, or I'll swipe your girlfriend."

Tsukasa just smirks at the thief. "There are too many dumb things in that statement to bother mentioning, Kaitou. I'll just let you keep talking until she Laughing Pressure Points you. Less work, more fun."

The doctor clears his throat, gesturing toward the door, and Natsumi can feel her ears burn again. She'd almost forgotten about the man, in the joy of being alive and _herself_ again, surrounded by people she cares about.

But there's one more in their group, one more important person who needs to be there for everything to be complete, and she can feel the giddy levity in the room seeping away.

They're quiet as they follow the doctor through the sterile white of the hospital. She feels dirty and exposed, somehow, following the white-coated man like a silent shadow, Tsukasa and Daiki close at hand. She needs a shower, and to sleep in her own bed, preferably for another week, and a good meal, and…

And she's doing everything in her power not to think about Yuusuke, about what he's going to look like, about what he's going to think.

He told her to do it. Just like Tsukasa, but more honest, more open, the perfect sacrifice, and there's a hand in each of hers, squeezing her fingers tight, giving her something to cling to as she forcefully blinks away tears. She won't cry. Not in front of Yuusuke, not after all he's been through.

The doctor finally comes to a stop outside another non-descript door. His expression softens when he turns back to them, flicks from Tsukasa on one side of her to Daiki on the other. "I don't want you to be scared when I let you in. He's alive, like I said, and I'm fairly confident I can keep him that way. But he hasn't regained consciousness. And with the damage that was done to him, I can't guarantee he'll make a full recovery. Kuuga ties into their nervous, muscular, cardiovascular… basically, there could still be long-term consequences to this. Mental or physical. There are a lot of machines hooked up to him right now, but—"

"Let us see him." Tsukasa's voice is quiet, calm. The calm before the storm, blatantly obvious, and the doctor sighs as he opens the door.

A sigh that turns to a frustrated growl as he walks into the room. "Godai Yuusuke, if you don't get back into bed in the next five seconds I swear that I will t—…"

"Tie me to the bed?" The man smiles as he turns around. It's not Yuusuke's smile, but it's similar, bright and open and honest. Just like his eyes are similar to Yuusuke's eyes, and the mark carefully emblazoned on the collar of his T-shirt is Kuuga's mark. An older Yuusuke, somewhere between five and ten years older, and significantly taller. The man she trusted, when she maybe shouldn't have, but her own instincts and the lingering knowledge from Parvati had told her that this man was kind. "It's all right, Tsubaki. You don't have to censor your threats. I am completely recovered from what happened."

"Godai…" Tsubaki sighs. "I am not up for this right now. Please go lie down and sleep, all right? You coded on me twice during the surgery. I do not want to have to go home and tell Ichijou I let something happen to you after you should have been safe."

"He wouldn't do anything to you. He knows I'm stubborn." Godai turns back around, toward the bed that's surrounded by medical equipment.

"I'm not worried he'll do something to me. I'm worried I'll have to deal with his depression and abused puppy looks for weeks. You don't have to deal with him when you're gone." Walking up behind the man, Tsubaki puts a hand on his shoulder. "Godai? Please?"

"It feels better. When I'm close to him." Godai's left arm wraps around his stomach, fingers grasping hard at his shirt.

Natsumi can feel Kaitou's fingers tighten against hers, a brief spasm, though you wouldn't be able to tell anything's wrong by looking at his face.

The doctor sighs, running a hand through his hair again. "All right. I'll get another bed moved in here. Probably better to have my problem patients in the same place, anyway."

"I think we're techinically your only patients. Since you're not actually licensed as a doctor in this world." Godai's hand drops back to his side, and he turns around completely. "But we're interfering with a reunion here. I'm sorry. Come in."

Both the doctor and Godai step away from the bed, toward the wall, giving them room to move into the room and closer to the still form lying there.

There's a tube going into his mouth. A fluid line going into his arm. Sensors diving under the hospital gown, under the sheets, and she's seen enough movies and television to recognize an ECG. Sensors attached to his head, little threads weaving out from between his hair, and someone washed all the blood out of it.

She reaches out to touch his hair, to smooth some of the tangled dark locks away from his face, and hesitates.

"It's all right. You can touch him." Tsubaki smiles at her, expression back to being tired and kind. "Don't take his left hand, there's an oxygen saturation sensor on that, but anywhere we don't have him wired up you can touch. Heaven knows, it might actually be good for him."

She runs her hand along Yuusuke's face, lets it toy briefly with a few strands of hair that she can touch without disrupting their sensors. "What's this for?"

It's Tsukasa who answers her, his eyes scanning over the read-outs on the various displays. "It's an EEG. Electroencephalogram. To look at brain function."

Kaitou snickers, standing behind Tsukasa, both arms hugging his chest. Trying to look cool, unconcerned, but to Natsumi's eyes he looks scared. "Well, that would explain why they're small peaks. Not much sense looking for something that wasn't there to begin with."

Tsukasa's fingers trace the screen, go to the print-out that's collecting next to it. "No. Some of it's normal, almost like dream activity. But some of this…"

Tsubaki steps up next to Tsukasa, carefully pulling the print-outs from his hand and putting them back. "I didn't know you were a doctor."

"I'm not. But I spent some time with scientists when I was younger. Doing… things." Tsukasa waves a hand, brushing off his past with DaiShocker. "Do you know what it means?"

"Like you said, some of it's normal, for a human. Some of it's normal for _them_, at least if Godai's parameters correlate to your Yuusuke at all. Some of it might be pathologic. Might be due to damage." Tsubaki tries and fails to fight off a yawn. "I'm sorry. If I knew more, I'd tell you. But it's basically a waiting game until he wakes up."

"He's not breathing on his own." Tsukasa nods toward the tube in Yuusuke's mouth. "That's what that means, right?"

"He's not breathing as well as I'd like him to on his own, no. But I'm not surprised by that. We had him under anesthesia for a long time. And with how badly his amadam was damaged, the fact that he was breathing at all when Godai brought him to us…" Tsubaki's eyes run over Yuusuke, speed across the various outputs on the monitors. "He's doing better than I would have expected him to. I'm quietly optimistic about his recovery."

Kaitou's hand twitches toward his jacket. Toward Diend, until her hand closes on his. "Which means?"

"Which means… I think he'll recover. If not completely, close enough to it. I _think_. I hope, but I can't promise you that." Tsubaki watches Tsukasa as he talks. "All right?"

Tsukasa nods once, an imperious movement, and takes Yuusuke's right hand in his. "All right. Weren't you going to go order another bed moved in here?"

The doctor starts toward the door and hesitates, looking between Godai and Tsukasa.

Godai smiles, nodding toward the door. "Don't worry, Tsubaki. We're not going to fight."

"You better not." Tsubaki shakes his head as he steps outside, closing the door softly behind him.

Silence reigns for a few long seconds, broken by Godai's quiet voice. "Tsukasa-kun?"

"Does he know?" Tsukasa's fingers brush along Yuusuke's hand. "That I'm Decade? That I'm the one who almost killed you?"

"No." Godai shakes his head. "The only ones who know are the Riders, a few of our really close human partners. And you were actually the fourth time he had to put me back together. I think I was actually in better shape after you than I was after Daguva, so even if he knew he probably wouldn't be too upset."

Tsukasa's silent for a moment, watching Yuusuke's face, the steady rise and fall of his chest. "Why'd you save him?"

"Because I like him." Godai goes to stand on the other side of the bed, brushing Yuusuke's left hand, fingers carefully staying away from the sensor wrapped around his index finger. "Because he reminds me of myself, when I was younger. Though he's different. A little brother, I guess. He's like a little brother. And even if he wasn't, he's a fellow Rider. We're supposed to help each other. It's what keeps us human. Besides, I promised him that if he held on I'd find him."

Tsukasa smiles, eyes rising to meet Godai's. "You remind me of him, you know. The way you talk. Promises and helping people."

Godai laughs. "Usually I hear it the other way around. That he reminds other people of me."

Tsukasa smiles, too, inclining his head. "Thank you. For saving him."

"We owed you." Any hint of a smile disappears from Godai's face. "For what happened during the War."

"For letting me slaughter you?" Tsukasa's still smiling, but it's a fixed expression. Frozen, something to hold on to as he tries to figure out what he's supposed to be feeling.

"For killing you. For making you kill. For getting things wrong, and causing… all this." Godai's fingers stop their movement, resting on Yuusuke's wrist. "We owe all three of you for putting you through hell. This was the least we could do in repayment."

"If we're talking about repayment—"

"Not now, Kaitou." Tsukasa snaps the words, though there's a slight smile on his lips. An honest smile. "What's going to happen from here, Godai Yuuusuke?"

"A truce, at least." Godai's free hand comes up, reaches out over Yuusuke. "Friends, if you'd be willing. I liked you right up until you tried to kill me, Tsukasa-kun."

"I think you like most people until they do something inconceivable like that." Tsukasa doesn't smile as he takes Godai's hand, giving it a brief, brisk shake. "A truce, to start. So you and Kenzaki can stop telling people I'm going to slaughter everyone if Yuusuke dies."

"We never—" Godai stops, hesitating. "Well… some of them might have gotten that impression. I told Tsubaki to be _careful_ how he told you, not that you'd blow up the hospital or anything."

"Uh huh." Tsukasa gently sets Yuusuke's hand down. "I'm not a loose cannon, you know. I only kill if I have to."

"I know. You're very well grounded, now." Godai smiles at her, gives Yuusuke a fond grin and throws a bemused glance at Kaitou. "But you're young, you're powerful, and you had just been through hell a second time. I wanted them to be kind to you, not afraid of you."

"I'm not that young." Tsukasa says it lazily, eyes still fixed on Yuusuke, watching him breathe. Watching the monitors, eyes going back again and again to the EEG. "I'm almost twenty-one."

Godai nods. "I was twenty-four when I found Kuuga, twenty-five when I went through… the worst part, and I'm almost thirty now. I'm not saying you're young as an insult, Tsukasa. Just that… I wish people your age didn't have to go through things like this. Not that people my age should, but it would be… better."

Kaitou shrugs. He's taken up residence against the wall, kicking at it with the back of his heel. "Old men start wars; young men die in them. Just the way it's always been."

Godai's expression as he stares at Kaitou is one of the saddest things Natsumi's ever seen.

"Enough." Her voice breaks the tension between the two men. If tension's even the right word for it—clash of ideals, maybe. Or lack of ideals colliding head on with idealism. "We're grateful for what you've done, Godai-san. But you've got to be sore and tired. Are you really going to—"

"No. It does hurt less here… but no. You're the people he needs right now." Godai's fingers brush once more across the back of Yuusuke's hand. "The four of you make a good team. Take care of him, all right?"

She nods, though that's one instruction that they definitely don't need. Godai smiles at her, gives Tsukasa a brief nod, and fixes Kaitou with an unreadable stare that makes the thief straighten. The door swings shut behind Godai, leaving the four of them together, finally. Together and alive, which means that even if they're not all right now, even if there are nightmares and trials waiting, they can overcome them.

She doesn't mean to start crying, now that everything's finally, finally over. She's just so _tired_. And Yuusuke's so still, looks so small stripped of his layers of clothes, his ardent energy that usually has him moving, talking, doing something. Helping someone, and she knows that she's going to dream about killing him for months to come. Just like she still dreams about killing Tsukasa, though he's right by her side, alive and well.

But maybe it's all right, because Tsukasa's arm is there to comfort her, she can take Yuusuke's hand and hold it tight, and there's a feather-soft touch on her shoulder, there and then gone, that means Daiki's not running yet.

They're human. They're together.

Even if they're in a new world, they're home.


	20. Part Nineteen: Spiritus Mundi

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything Kamen Rider.

**Author's Note:** There aren't really any spoilers in this. Just quiet contemplation. Nothing traumatic, either. Enjoy!

_Part Nineteen: Spiritus Mundi_

It doesn't hurt.

At least not like it did. Not an intense, aching, empty void of agony at his center, and for a while that's enough. That means that for a little bit he can rest, wrapped in darkness of a different kind.

People talk to him. He notices that first, because it happens a lot. Sometimes he can even tell what they're saying, parse the sounds together into more than just a comforting buzz of human contact.

"—went home. Like you said, and it turned out all right." Kenzaki laughs, which is a good sound. He should laugh more often. It fits him better than the deep seriousness or the screaming pain and madness. "Tachibana's doing fine. Kotarou's letting me stay with him while I look for a job. And Hajime and I've spent some time together. Carefully, with other people there, but I haven't tried to kill him and he hasn't tried to kill me yet, so… I think it's going to be all right. Better than all right. Great. And I have you to thank for that, Yuusuke. So you need to wake up, all right?"

He would if he could. It's a simple request, really, and it shouldn't be hard to fill. But he can't feel his body, and this doesn't really feel like sleeping, so how's he supposed to…?

But the voice fades away to just a background hum again, the dark, quiet calm claiming him. He thinks about fighting it, about trying to find another way to reach Kenzaki, but he's still tired. Still scared, honestly, of the pain that dogged him and the nightmares that tried to drown him. Nightmares he can't remember here, wrapped in this protection, and he sinks deeper into it.

Just for a little bit.

Just until he's ready.

"I'm sorry, Yuusuke." Natsumi's voice, and he can feel something. Something warm and soft and gentle, and that must be her hand. Those must be his fingers that she's tracing. The sensation is wonderful, something new, something alien, and for a long moment he isn't aware of anything else. Just her fingers and his, an anchor point in the darkness, something to tell him where he should exist. "I didn't want to. I wish I hadn't had to. But it was me or Tsukasa, and Tsukasa… I couldn't let Tsukasa hurt you again. I don't know if he would have been able to come back, if he'd done that."

Something moist drops onto his hand, shatters into a thousand pieces that cool his skin. It's followed by another, and another, and he wants to shiver but can't. Wants to shift his fingers, grasp them hard around hers, but he can't remember how to move them.

Wants to tell her he understands, but there's something in his throat, now that he's trying to focus on it, something pressing down tight, and he's scared.

_We want it out?_

The words aren't in Japanese. That's his first thought, and he runs through the other languages he knows for a few seconds before realizing that it won't be helpful because they aren't actually _words_. Thoughts, concepts, understanding, but not words, though if they were words they would be in an older tongue than any he's fluent in.

He can't breathe. He hadn't even been aware that he _was_ breathing until it becomes impossible to do, his throat filled with something alien, the rest of his body fighting against the pressure it puts on his lungs.

"Yuusuke?" Natsumi sounds scared, and that must be her hand against his face. He wants to turn to her, press against her, because maybe she'll be able to help him sort this out, but he can't do anything.

Can't even breathe, and why can the old thing, the dark thing, the frightening thing move his body when he can't?

"Yuusuke, it's all right. Yuusuke! Tsubaki-sensei! _Someone!_"

He can't track everything that happens. A flurry of touches, rough and sure, and the pressure is finally gone from his throat, from his mouth, and he can gasp in a breath on his own. One, and it's harder than it should be. Breathing's something that just _happens_, not something you need to work at. Two, and it's good to be doing this on his own, or at least as close to as on his own as he can get. Three, and the guttural voice purrs in contentment.

It's pleased, that they're healing, that their body's doing better all the time. Pleased that it can control this again, and do it well.

"Onodera-san? Yuusuke-kun?"

Brightness explodes through the dark, so sharp it hurts, and he cringes away from it. Cringes away from the thing breathing for him, because it feels too much like the darkness from _before_. Too much like the shifting emptiness, the devourer of all, the pointless plague—

"Yuusuke, it's all right." He can hear things behind her voice. People calling to each other, and the frantic beeping of mechanical warnings, but her voice is the most important thing in the maelstrom. "Sleep if you need to, Yuusuke. Just please don't hurt yourself. We'll be here whenever you're ready to wake up."

Sleep. Cradled in the soft darkness, the quiet emptiness, where nothing hurts and he doesn't have to remember.

Sleep curled in a protective cocoon, created by the thing that's breathing for him.

_You are ours. Chosen by us._ He likes thinking of it using words, even if they are the words of the Grongi. It puts more distance between them, lets him keep more of his humanity. _We won't hurt you._

That's a lie, though it doesn't understand that. Doesn't know that trying to keep its power harnessed, trying to keep it from hurting anything, trying to be human and its host can be agony.

It isn't malevolent, the darkness locked inside him.

And that means it's okay to sink into it, to let it wrap around him and protect him, just for a little bit longer.

He knows the fingers that call him back from the darkness. Knows them because they aren't Natsumi's, aren't Tsukasa's, but they are still kind to him when he is hurting.

"You are brave, little Linto." She speaks the language that the dark power knows best. Her hand caresses his, moves up his arm to run along his cheek, down his neck. "Brave and strong, to survive what you have. Come with me. Come see our new Grongi."

It wants to. The darkness wants to, yearns to follow this woman. Though it was harnessed by the Linto, it is at its core the same as the Grongi, and like calls to like.

But he won't go with her. _Can't_ go with her, not for any length of time. His home is here, people that are important to him, people he needs to protect, though the details are still hard to remember. So he must be here, and he must be human, and it's easier than he thought it would be to quell the desires of the darkness.

The woman sighs. Her lips press against his forehead, cool, firm. "I should know better than to try to catch Kuuga in any world. Sleep well, Onodera Yuusuke, and be whole when you wake."

It's not a command he has to follow, but he does anyway. Kuuga is best able to heal them when he is quiet, docile, his mind not constantly striving against it, capturing it, cornering it. Not out of malice, on either of their parts, but because that it what their relationship must be. He must be human and in control, because it does not and never can understand empathy.

"—an idiot, you know." Kaitou's voice, but there's something off in his inflections. Something strained, almost scared, and he wants to open his eyes to look at the man but still can't quite figure out how to. "A complete and total idiot. But that doesn't mean you're not interesting.

"I saved the world with you, Yuusuke. Because that damn idealism of yours… not even idealism. Heroism. That damn selfless heroism, after everything you've been through… that's a treasure." Kaitou's hand slips behind his head, lifts it briefly. Something cold comes to lie against his chest. Something metallic, and those are the links of a chain around his neck. "I acquired it on a rather interesting world. Maybe I'll take you guys there some time. It's supposed to protect the wearer, help them heal. So wake up, all right? Wake up and be your usual idiot self."

He tries. It's rare for Kaitou Daiki to ask anything of anyone, and he doesn't want to disappoint him.

But he still can't figure out how to get his eyes to open. And though he can feel things when they touch him, he can't seem to make his hands move, either.

_Trying._ It's a tired sigh, a frustrated thought from the darkness spread throughout him. _Trying. Getting there. But so hurt…_

Crushed, torn apart, glued back together from the fragments of one life and the borrowed strength of another. Of course it's taking them time to heal.

_It's all right._ He embraces it, for the first time since it changed him, made him something he didn't want to be. But that was his fault, his choices, not Kuuga's. Giving it what strength he has, he holds it tight. He can't help directly, not with what it's doing, because he doesn't understand, but he can support it. He can let it rest, even, and breathe for them while it does. _Do what you need to do._

He can hear Kaitou laugh, a soft, bitter sound of re-broken illusions. Which isn't what he wants at all, and he focuses hard on just his right hand. On the sensations he gets from it, the feel of fabric against the back of his hand, the cool brush of air across the top. If he can feel it, he should be able to move it. Just a little. Just a few muscles, a tightening of four fingers, and surely Kaitou will understand what he's trying to say…

The effort is exhausting and he's not even sure he succeeds, but Daiki's fingers brush over his, close his hand into the fist he was trying to make.

"They'll be here when you wake up." Kaitou's finger strokes along the length of his thumb. "And I'll see you around, Yuusuke."

It's enough, and he thinks maybe he manages to smile as he drifts off again, holding Kuuga tight to him.

He wakes before Godai even starts speaking, Kuuga drawn to the power of another like it. Another that _is_ it, even moreso than before, because Godai gave part of himself so that they could live.

"Feeling better, I can tell." Godai takes his hand, grip firm and sure. "Getting ready to travel the multiverse again, huh?"

Traveling again. Going places with Tsukasa and Natsumi and Kaitou, seeing what wonders the universe has to offer. He wants to do that, a sudden voracious _need_ to travel, but he can't. Not yet, because he's still not strong enough to even open his eyes.

"Soon, Yuusuke." Godai's fingers squeeze around his, a gentle pressure. "Hopefully sooner rather than later, though. Your friends are getting restless. And worried.

"But you're going to be fine. You're going to be better than ever before, right? Maybe even stronger than me. I mean, Tsubaki says he had to zap you more than he had to zap me, and Kuuga likes electricity. So you're going to be just fime.

"But if you're ever not." Godai's voice drops to a lower, softer key. "If you're ever not, you can come talk to me, Yuusuke. About anything, but especially about this." Fingers run briefly over his abdomen, the faintest contact above the amadam. Usually it's a sensitive area, ridiculously aware of anyone's attempts to touch it, but not to Godai's fingers. Godai's touch is too much like his own.

"So on the off chance that you're staying asleep because you don't think you can deal with something with Kuuga… you don't have to. I'm here. I'll help you with it." Godai's hand ruffles his hair, earning a series of distraught beeps from something by the bed. "But I don't think that's what's happening. So heal up, little brother. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."

He wants to say he will. He wants to say he's working on it. But they still haven't gotten everything wired up properly, he and Kuuga, so all he can do is try to smile, try to curl his fingers into a thumb's up.

Which is all right, in this case, because Godai understands, and stays with him, talking of unimportant things until the dark of sleep claims him again.

"I can't protect you, Yuusuke." Tsukasa's lone voice is what calls him out of the darkness, which is rare. Tsukasa doesn't usually come alone, talk to him of important things like the others do. It's just not the way Tsukasa works. "I know I said I would, back when we first met. That I'd protect your smile. But I can't. You've been hurt so many times since then… _I've_ hurt you so many times since then.

"I don't know how to keep you safe. You or Natsumi, so I can't promise that." Tsukasa sighs, a sigh that turns to a chuckling laugh. "Not that Natsumi would be thrilled by my saying I want to protect her. She's proud of her abilities as a Rider."

And rightly so. She'd worked hard to make herself as good as she possibly could be with her abilities. But that didn't mean she didn't want Tsukasa to protect her. She just wanted to protect him back.

And it didn't mean you shouldn't try to protect someone, just because you failed. He would have to give up on protecting _anyone_, if that was the case.

"But I do need you, Yuusuke. I trust you. Out of all the people I've met, I think I trust your opinion most. You're a good person. You want to do the right thing. You want to help people. Even after everything that's happened to you, everything the worlds have done to you…" _Everything I've done to you_ hangs there in the air, unspoken. "You've saved me. You and Natsumi, you've saved me in more ways than I can count. So I need you."

He tries to respond. Tries to curl his fingers again, but it still doesn't work right. Tries to open his eyes, and maybe he succeeds a little bit, but he still can't see anything. Can barely feel anything anymore, the exertion having exhausted him, and this isn't right. He should be able to move by now. He should be able to talk with them, after all the work Kuuga's done, but he can't figure it out.

Kuuga's done a good job of putting them back together, but he can't seem to figure out how to _use_ their new and improved body.

Tsukasa's fingers feel cool around his. "Just tell us what we need to do for you, Yuusuke, and we'll do it."

He wants to. He wants to so badly, but he can't, because _he_ doesn't know.

After a few minutes Tsukasa sighs, tucking his hand under the sheet. He wants to stop Tsukasa from leaving. He wants to reach out and grab onto him, hug him, tell him everything's all right, but he can't make his body respond to what he wants.

The mechanical thing that had been beeping in the corner picks up speed.

Tsukasa's hand slips back into his, and if he could he would sigh in relief. "Yuusuke?"

The beeping sound softens, slows down.

"You can feel us, can't you?" Tsukasa's tone is contemplative. "And hear us. You just can't respond yet. It's all right, Yuusuke. I'll figure out how to help you."

He can't sigh in relief. He can't make his fingers grab tight to Tsukasa's.

But maybe it's all right, because Tsukasa still stays with him for a long time, until the dark of sleep claims him again, and there's someone with him when he wakes up.


	21. Part Twenty: With Numberless Dreams

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing Kamen Rider.

**Author's Note:** We finally come to the end! I'm sorry about how long it took me to get this all done and posted. Hopefully there are people out there still interested and who will read. Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated (any comments at all are greatly appreciated, but con crit means hopefully whatever I do next will be even better than this). Thanks so much for reading!

_Part Twenty: With Numberless Dreams_

Three weeks.

It's been three weeks since they brought Yuusuke here, and he still hasn't moved.

Or maybe he _has_ moved, just a little bit here and there, but it could just have been Kaitou's imagination. Could just have been a random twitching of his hand, taking on a shape that's somewhat familiar.

They've removed most of the machines. They still have the heart-thing on him, but there's nothing attached to his head. Nothing breathing for him, not since day two or three. Still an IV in his arm, but Kaitou's not surprised by that. Any time you went to a hospital they seemed determined to stick a needle in your arm. Maybe it was a clever way to keep people from wanting to come.

Yuusuke still has the charm that Kaitou put around his neck, the gold edge just showing above the fabric of the hospital gown. It's a pretty thing, the blood-red stone in the center reminding him of Kuuga's red amadam. He's glad that the others haven't removed it, even if it doesn't seem to have helped at all.

Not that he expected it to help. Not really. Things like that never really worked.

"Back again, Kaitou?" Tsukasa lounges in the door for a moment before coming in. "I thought when you left this time it'd be a bit more permanent."

"This place has some perks. Like free meals." He takes a step back from Yuusuke's side. "Surprised you're still here. Thought you'd have gotten bored by now."

Tsukasa just shrugs. Natsumi, who came in behind him, rolls her eyes. Pulling a chair up next to Yuusuke's bed, she takes his hand. "Ignore those two and their complete ineptitude at showing affection. We'll wait as long as you need us to, Yuusuke."

No response. No twitch of movement, no change in the readings on the monitors still there. "How long are they going to leave him there if he doesn't wake up?"

He says it easily, nonchalantly, but Kaitou feels his throat tighten once the words are out of his mouth. Wrong, wrong, wrong, the thought of Yuusuke never waking up, and there's a ridiculous part of his mind that says he's made it more likely now by saying it.

Natsumi's voice is firm but not angry when she answers. "He's going to wake up. He's responded to us, a few times. Or tried to. He just needs more time."

"He needs something." Tsukasa's voice is quiet and thoughtful as he studies Yuusuke. "But I'm not sure if more time's it. Tsubaki says he's pretty much healed from everything. He should be able to do more than sleep now."

"What we went through was hard." Natsumi continues to hold Yuusuke's hand in a tight grip. "It's all right if it takes him a while."

"I know. I just feel like…" Shrugging, Tsukasa prowls around the bed, moving from one side to the other. "I don't think this is what he needs anymore. What he wants. I don't think this is good for him."

After pacing the room a few times Tsukasa nods once, slowly, to himself. Then he heads to the door.

Kaitou stares at Natsumi, who just shrugs.

It only takes a minute or so before Tsukasa comes back into the room, Tsubaki and Godai hot on his heels. "Just because I said that it won't kill him to take him off everything doesn't mean it's a good idea. We're monitoring him for a reason. You just need to be patient and—"

"How would you be doing if you were him?" Turning, Tsukasa stabs a finger at Godai. "The same room, day in, day out. The same world. The same people. Nothing to do. Doesn't give you much reason to wake up, does it? Doesn't give you much to hold on to if you want to, either. He's a traveler. Keeping him trapped here is about the worst thing we can do."

Godai hesitates for just a moment before nodding, a grin spreading across his face.

"Godai, no." Tsubaki spins on the other man. "What if I'm wrong? If that damn belt of his isn't finished healing, then moving him could kill him."

"No. They're well enough to move. They want to, even. They're just having trouble figuring it out again." Skirting around his friend, Godai moves up next to Yuusuke. "Tsukasa's idea is a good one. If it doesn't work, we'll bring him right back to you."

They have him out of the hospital gown in about thirty seconds, earning a squeaked protest from Natsumi. Tsubaki helps them take off the few sensors and catheters that were left, turning off alarms as he goes, expression alternating between grim and hopeful. Once they have a shirt and jeans on Yuusuke, Tsukasa tries to lift him.

And drops the smaller man back onto the bed with a grunt of frustration.

Godai reaches for Yuusuke's arms. "I'll help—"

"No." Tsukasa bites out of the word, bending down once again. "I can carry him. I've done it before."

He'd been a half-mad godling when he did it before, but Kaitou doesn't point that out. Just like he doesn't laugh at the awkward way Yuusuke's held in Tsukasa's arms, or joke about Tsukasa dropping the smaller man on his head and giving him more brain damage.

There's too much tenderness in the way Tsukasa's hands cling to Yuusuke, too much real worry and sorrow and need to help, to protect in his expression as he tries to cradle the other man. Sometimes it's just not appropriate to mock people. Especially not when Kaitou's maybe, sort of, feeling some of the same things himself.

Not that it'll stop him from mocking Tsukasa later. Tsukasa is never going to hear the end of this, eventually.

But not now. Not right now.

It's chilly on the roof, and Kaitou shivers despite his jacket. Yuusuke must be freezing, with only a single shirt between him and the wind that nips around them.

It's not bright. Dark clouds billow on the horizon, while a sheet of slate gray covers the sky immediately above them. It's not quite raining yet, but occasionally the wind sprays a fine mist against them, the moisture feeling ominous in the electricity-laden air.

For a long moment they just stand there, Tsukasa holding Yuusuke tight against him.

Tsubaki steps forward hesitantly, the expression on his face pained. "Maybe it was a good idea, Tsukasa-kun. But it's cold, and he's probably not thermoregulating well—"

"Yuusuke." Tsukasa sits down, letting Yuusuke's legs and bare feet settle onto the cold cement. Yuusuke's upper body he keeps cradled against himself. "Can't you feel that, Yuusuke? Wind. Blowing through the city. Rain. You can smell the rain, can't you? Better than the smell of any hospital. So alive, even up here, even with the smell of gasoline mixed into it. Hear that? Thunder. And that? People, Yuusuke. A whole new world, still waiting to be explored. So many new worlds, waiting to be explored. So you need to wake up. You need to come back to us."

Natsumi crouches down by Tsukasa, takes Yuusuke's right hand in hers. "We'll be as patient as we need to be, Yuusuke. But we need you with us. We need you here."

The fingers of Yuusuke's right hand twitch, tighten just briefly around hers. And is that a grimace of effort, there on his face?

Kneeling down on Tsukasa's left side, Kaitou reaches out and gives a sharp yank on the chain holding the pendant in place. "Come on, idiot. Yuusuke. Time to wake up."

Yuusuke opens his eyes slowly, blinking in even the muted pre-storm lighting. Tears spring to his eyes, start to trickle down his face, and his head falls in toward Tsukasa's chest.

"That's it, Yuusuke." Gently turning the other Rider's head back away from his body, Tsukasa grins. "Look around. It's all right."

"'kasa?" Yuusuke's voice is gravelly, slurred. "What… zobo…"

Kaitou frowns. "Did he just—"

"It's all right, Yuusuke." Natsumi shakes her head at Kaitou, running a hand through Yuusuke's hair. "We're in Hibiki's world. Not Asumu's world, a different one, but we're safe here."

"Ah. I know." Yuusuke turns his head away from Tsukasa, his hand slipping out of Natsumi's and down to the cement of the rooftop. Leaning forward, he closes his eyes, smiling as the wind blows another gust of water against them. "Biideragida… you told us. Me. You told me. I remember."

He tries to clamber to his feet, resulting in a mess of arms and legs as Tsukasa and Natsumi keep him from falling to the ground.

"Oh. Guriragen. Sorry." Staring down at his hands, Yuusuke slowly flexes his fingers. "Still figuring this out."

"Tsubaki?" Godai watches Yuusuke, head tilted to one side. "Why is he—?"

"Why are you asking _me_?" The doctor shakes his head, both hands rising defensively. "I saved his life. He is awake and a hell of a lot more functional than I was afraid he would be. Any other side effects are not my fault."

"Kaitou." Yuusuke grins and charges at him, tripping over his own feet after the first step.

"Yuusuke." He catches the idiot, because it would be too much of a shame if he fell and scuffed up the amulet. "You seem to be feeling better—hey!"

Yuusuke's arms wrap around his neck, squeeze tight. A little too tight, probably harder than the smaller man intended to, but it's obvious that he's still getting his coordination back. "We're alive. We're all alive and we're here."

"You're a little slow on the draw there, but yes." Patting Yuusuke on the back of his head, he wonders if it would be possible to undo the clasp and slip the amulet off without anyone noticing.

He's in the process of attempting it when Yuusuke suddenly presses up against him, burying his head against Kaitou's neck. "Garui. It's cold."

Tsukasa and Natsumi help him get Yuusuke's arms from around his neck. Each taking a shoulder, they guide the other Rider toward the stairs.

"Come on." Tsukasa smiles fondly at the smaller man. "We'll get your jacket from your room, and we'll go home. If you want."

"We do. I do." Yuusuke seems to get more coordination back with each step, though the way he's watching his feet says that there's still something novel about the experience. "I want to go home. And then I want to go… anywhere. Wherever you guys want to go. I want to go anywhere."

He laughs, a bright, pleased sound, and pulls Natsumi and Tsukasa in closer to him.

"You're still not completely better, are you?" Natsumi asks the question gently, trying to push his hair out of his eyes and back into a semblance of order.

"Close enough." Yuusuke smiles. "Gasigodo. Thanks, Tsukasa. I was getting scared, since I couldn't figure out how to wake up."

"No problem."

"Slight problem." Kaitou pokes Yuusuke in the back, causing the man to jump and trip, almost bringing Tsukasa down to the ground with him. "Why do you keep talking like a kaijin?"

"I'm sorry. I'll stop."

He looks so sincere about it, so grave, that Kaitou can't help but sigh. "You're sure you're all right?"

"Yeah." The manic edge is gone from Yuusuke's smile now. "Still healing a few things, so Kuuga's still working overtime, but we're all right. Better than ever before."

"Good. That's good." Drawing a deep breath, he waves at the others. "So, guess I'll see all three of you around then."

Tsukasa rolls his eyes.

Yuusuke's hand reaches for him, though he stops short of actually catching his arm. "Gagae."

Natsumi grabs his hand, though she doesn't hold onto it when he pulls away. "Come have dinner with us, Kaitou. Free meal. All right?"

He hesitates just a second before nodding.

Just for a free meal. Just for the chance to annoy Tsukasa.

And if he ends up staying, taking up his usual residence in the middle of Tsukasa and Yuusuke's room…

If he ends up making breakfast in the morning…

Well, someone has to take care of his treasures, because they're really damn bad at taking care of themselves.


End file.
